Reign of the Dragon Queen
by The History Queen
Summary: An alternate history if Rhaenyra Targaryen had been successfully crowned queen. What would her reign have been like? What princes and princesses would have been born into her family through her five sons and only daughter? How would the Dance of Dragons occur later on in the future? The answers lie within this story. Delve into a world of royalty, dragons and devastation...
1. Prologue: Sons and Daughters

**_This prologue will describe the events that led to the Dance of Dragons in the canon story-line. I have not read the books or watched the tv series, however, I do know enough to understand what is going on and my research into this subject has been very thorough. I first stumbled across the "ASoIaF" series about two years ago and I have read up about it since. Since I love history, the medieval background of the series is very fascinating to me and I like how G.R.R. Martin used actual historical events and individuals as a literary basis. The history of his world of Westeros is so detailed and fascinating; it resembles actual history!_**

 ** _But enough gushing. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the prologue (plus soak up some information). :)_**

* * *

In 103 AC, Jaehaerys Targaryen, the First of His Name, died in his sleep. Known as the "Conciliator" for his skill in peaceful negotiations and later as the "Old King" as he reached his advanced years, Jaehaerys was beloved by all of the Seven Kingdoms for his reforms, fair reign and most importantly of all, for establishing a long standing peace during his fifty-four year tenure as king. The news of his passing caused all of Westeros to mourn including Dorne, the old adversary of Jaehaerys's grandfather, Aegon the Conqueror. After Jaehaerys was cremated and his ashes were stored away in the Red Keep's crypt beside the remains of his beloved sister-wife Alysanne, who predeceased him four years earlier, Westeros entered a new era. Due to most of the Old King's sons dying during his reign, Jaehaerys's oldest grandson Viserys ascended to the Iron Throne as the new king.

Viserys was only six and twenty when he was crowned. By his side were his newly crowned queen consort, and first cousin, Aemma Arryn and their then six year old daughter Princess Rhaenyra. A sweet little girl, Rhaenyra was adored by the Seven Kingdoms and she was called "The Realm's Delight" because of it. Being the only child of Viserys and Aemma, Rhaenyra was treasured and indulged by both her parents. She was given whatever she wanted and she had no shortage of friends to play with at court.

A year later in 104 AC, a knight from the Stormlands asked for the seven year old princess's favor during the Tourney at Maidenpool. Rhaenyra granted it and the knight went on to win both the jousting competition and melee with his prized morning star. After his victory, the knight took the crown of roses and he named the little princess the Queen of Love and Beauty. An overjoyed Rhaenyra begged her father to make the knight, Ser Criston Cole, her sworn shield and her father was more than happy to grant his child her wish. From that day onward, Criston and Rhaenyra were inseparable.

To add to Viserys' already joyful reign, his wife became pregnant again and the king hoped and prayed for a healthy son to follow since Aemma's earlier pregnancies resulted in several miscarriages and a son who had died shortly after his birth. Rhaenyra was delighted with her mother's pregnancy as well since she wanted to be a big sister. Late into 105 AC, Queen Aemma did indeed give birth to a son. Tragically, the queen's frail body couldn't bear the strain of childbirth this time and she passed away. To compound Viserys and Rhaenyra's grief even more, newborn Prince Baelon died the next day in his cradle…

Sorrow became eclipsed with rage when the king found out through a source that his younger brother, Prince Daemon, had been celebrating his apparent naming as heir to the Iron Throne in a brothel on the Street of Silk in the infamous Flea Bottom slum of the capitol. Upon hearing how Daemon and his lackeys were making drunken and insensitive toasts to the "Heir for a Day," Viserys's recently deceased baby son, the king became absolutely enraged and he made up his mind on who his successor was going to be. After his grief had passed, the king held a grand feast and he was sure to invite every important nobleman, including his younger brother.

There, in front of everyone who was in attendance, the king announced that in light of his wife and son's passing, he had settled on an heir for the Iron Throne. Daemon smirked to himself as his brother began his announcement, confident that he was destined to become the next king after Viserys. But it was not Daemon that Viserys had chosen, but his daughter Rhaenyra. After the shock had passed, nobles and knights from all over the realm swore oaths of fealty to the eight year old girl. The princess's beloved uncle furiously yet silently left the banquet hall and he rode out of King's Landing seeing nothing but red.

A year after she was named her father's heir, Rhaenyra gained a stepmother through Alicent Hightower, the then eighteen year old daughter of her father's Hand of the King, Ser Otto Hightower. During the wedding feast, the princess poured her stepmother's wine and Alicent brought the girl close and she kissed her on her forehead, calling her "daughter" to all who could hear it. As the first year of Viserys' second marriage progressed, the relationship between his new queen and his daughter was happy. During this time, Alicent became pregnant and unlike her predecessor, she was strong and her womb bore her husband a healthy son whom the couple proudly named Aegon.

But the birth of her younger half-brother did not bring joy to Rhaenyra. She did not want Aegon to take away her title as heir to the throne and she acted coolly when she first visited her newborn half-sibling in her stepmother's bedchamber. To add to the situation, Viserys did not name his newborn son as his heir. This greatly concerned his Hand along with Alicent. They asked him why he didn't make Aegon the heir to the throne and Viserys told them that he had set his mind on Rhaenyra because she already had some political experience by serving as his Royal Cupbearer and by sitting in during his numerous meetings with his small council and he didn't want to start all over again with Aegon.

After this, the once warm relationship between Alicent and Rhaenyra began to grow cold. This division between the king's second wife and daughter grew only larger as the queen gave birth to two more healthy children; Princess Helaena in 109 AC and Prince Aemond in 110 AC. With the exception of her half-sister, Rhaenyra did not care for her younger half-brothers and they in turn, did care for their older half-sister. The year 111 AC brought the tensions to light during the tourney that was held that year to celebrate the fifth wedding anniversary of the king and queen. Queen Alicent wore a splendid gown made of rich green silk with gold thread brocade along the hems and she looked truly elegant and regal in the royal box that oversaw the festivities.

Her fourteen year old stepdaughter meanwhile wore an extravagant gown of her own. It was a magnificent dress of crimson and sable silks, the colors of House Targaryen, with silvery pearls decorating the bodice and intricate black Myrish lace lining the ends of her sleeves and the border of her dress's collar. Both outfits clashed against the other and to add to the tension, Rhaenyra's beloved sworn shield, Ser Criston Cole, unhorsed and defeated the queen's younger brother Ser Gwayne Hightower. Visiting dignitaries took note of the frigid atmosphere surrounding the princess and queen during the rest of the tourney and the subsequent feast thereafter. The colors of the dresses caught on and henceforth, the two parties of the schism at the royal court were called the "Blacks" (the group that supported Princess Rhaenyra's succession) and the "Greens" (those who supported the claims of Queen Alicent's sons to rule).

Two years later in 113 AC, Rhaenyra was made the Princess of Dragonstone and it enraged her stepmother, much to her stepdaughter's smug satisfaction. But that same year, Rhaenyra suffered the first grievous blow to her reputation. She became the centerpiece of a vile scandal in which it was rumored that she had been taking "lessons" on how to please men from her uncle Daemon in order to win the heart of Ser Cole, but was subsequently seduced and deflowered by Daemon instead. Because of the scandal, Ser Criston Cole was disillusioned by the princess he once adored and he left her service and, as if to rub salt into Rhaenyra's already gaping wounds, he became Queen Alicent's sworn shield. Despite what had supposedly happened, Viserys did not change his line of succession and it took everything within him to not strangle his younger brother with his bare hands.

Things got from bad to worse for the princess when she was engaged to her second cousin, Laenor Velaryon. She protested the match, saying that Laenor was homosexual, reportedly quoting that her half-brothers would be more to Laenor's liking, but her father threatened to take away her claim to the throne if she didn't comply with the marriage. The princess begrudgingly accepted, and in 114 AC, Rhaenyra and Laenor were married. The tourney held to celebrate the wedding was won by Ser Criston Cole, however this time, he wore the favor of the bride's stepmother instead. It was Alicent's turn to look smug as her knight fatally struck down Ser Jofferey Lonmouth, the supposed lover of the newly knighted and married Laenor and he also broke the bones of her stepdaughter's newly sworn shield, Ser Harwin Strong, resulting in the court fool Mushroom giving him the nickname "Breakbones."

A month after their wedding, Rhaenyra and Laenor moved to Dragonstone and were accompanied by Ser Strong. Shortly afterwards, the princess announced her first pregnancy and just two weeks later, the queen revealed that she had become pregnant for the fourth time, greatly exciting Viserys. Later that same year, Rhaenyra and Laenor had their first son together, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon. A week after his first grandchild's birth, Viserys welcomed his third son, Prince Daeron, into the world. In the years 115 and 117 AC, Rhaenyra had two more sons with her husband: Lucerys and Jofferey, the latter who was named in honor of his father's beloved knight.

Scandal greeted each boy upon his birth due to the glaring fact they that did not look Valyrian at all. The Velaryon brothers each had brown hair and eyes and pug noses, physical traits that were suspiciously similar to Ser Harwin Strong. Despite the obvious bastardy of his grandsons, Viserys still refused to revoke his daughter's claim to the throne. Due to his stubbornness, the marriage between the king and queen began to sour, as did the relationship he had with his sons. To make things even worse, the year 120 AC proved to be an especially bad year for the royal family and their allies.

Looked back on as the "Red Spring," 120 AC was riddled with deaths and the further worsening of the relationship between Alicent and Rhaenyra. To start it off, Laena Velaryon, Rhaenyra's beloved sister-in-law and the second wife of Prince Daemon, died three days after giving birth to a deformed son who lived for only an hour after his arrival into the world. Second, Rhaenyra's husband was murdered at Spicetown by the hands of his lover, Ser Qarl Correy, after an argument between the two became deadly. Third, a mysterious fire broke out at the dreaded castle Harrenhal, killing both Ser Harwin Strong, who had been removed from Dragonstone by order of the king, and his father Lord Lyonel, who was also Viserys's second Hand of the King. After Lyonel's death, Viserys reinstated his father-in-law Ser Otto as his Hand.

During the funeral of Ser Laenor Velaryon at High Tide, the seat of House Velaryon on the island of Driftmark, a fight broke out between the Velaryon brothers and their half-uncle Aemond in the castle courtyard. Aemond was trying to claim the dragon mount of the recently deceased Laena, Vhagar, when his half-nephews caught him and tried to stop him. Aemond insulted the boys by calling them bastards and he pushed three year old Jofferey into a pile of dragon dung before taking off on the back the ancient dragon. After flying around the castle, Aemond descended back into the courtyard and as he dismounted Vhagar, his nephews ambushed him. They beat him and during the heat of the moment, five year old Lucerys took out his dagger and he cut out his half-uncle's right eye.

The blinding of the prince enraged his mother, while Aemond insulting his nephews stirred the ire of his widowed half-sister and both women argued viciously that night over who was at fault for the incident. Rhaenyra claimed that it was Aemond's fault that he lost an eye because he was bullying her sons while her stepmother countered that such violence was unnecessary and that Lucerys should lose an eye as punishment for blinding her boy. Viserys somehow managed to calm the two women down and he forced them apologize to each other, but everyone except the king knew that the apology was false. The next morning, Rhaenyra departed from Driftmark for Dragonstone with her sons in a veil of icy silence. Accompanying the princess and her children was her uncle Daemon.

After returning to Dragonstone, Daemon began to court his niece and shortly afterward, the two were wed and the couple each received stepchildren from their new spouse: with Rhaenyra's three sons becoming Daemon's stepsons and the twin daughters the prince had with Laena, Baela and Rhaena, becoming their cousin Rhaenyra's stepdaughters. News of the avunculate marriage ***** shocked King's Landing because the princess had married so soon after her first husband's death and also because Daemon had claimed a third wife so quickly after the passing of his second spouse. Viserys, although flabbergasted, still did not take away his daughter's claim to the Iron Throne, but he did not speak with his younger brother again for some time out of anger. Shortly after the incestuous marriage, Rhaenyra became pregnant for the fourth time and near the end of the year, the princess bore her uncle-husband his first surviving son. The boy, who bore pure Valyrian features this time, was christened with the name Aegon.

The name enraged Alicent since she felt that her stepdaughter and brother-in-law were trying to slight her by naming their son Aegon while she had a child who shared the exact same name. To differentiate the boy from his half-uncle, baby Aegon was nicknamed the "Younger" and the latter, the "Elder." Two years later in 122 AC, Daemon's niece-wife gave birth to another son whom she named Viserys, in honor of her father. Years passed, and the tensions between the Blacks and the Greens worsened. Rhaenyra's sons had to be educated and trained in swordplay alongside their hated half-uncles by the decree of their grandfather whenever they came to visit the Red Keep.

The boys would pick fights, argue or undermine the studies of the other. Even their dragons snapped at each other in the Dragonpit. When Corlys Velaryon became terribly ill in 126 AC to the point that it appeared that he would die, his former daughter-in-law came to his sickbed and she tried to persuade him to name his second born grandson Lucerys as the heir to Driftmark. This caused an uproar amongst Corlys's nephews and grandnephews, and the men went to the Red Keep to beseech the king to prevent Lucerys from inheriting Driftmark on the grounds that the boy was a bastard. Viserys was angered by these men calling his beloved grandson a bastard and in his fury, the king slashed two of his fingers to the bone on the sharp armrest of the Iron Throne.

The king ordered the tongues of the men who slighted Lucerys removed and he decreed that this would be the fate of anyone who called his grandchildren bastards in his presence again. After the incident, the king's health began to worsen as his fingers became infected and he later had them amputated by Maester Orwyle. During the feast to celebrate the recovery of his health, Prince Jacaerys asked his half-aunt, Princess Helaena if he could dance with her. Aegon the Elder, the princess's older brother and husband, took offense to this and blades were drawn and the Kingsguard had to move in before the princes could gravely injure one another. Nobody knows what Rhaenyra's reaction to this was, but it can be easily guessed that it wasn't good.

As the year passed, Viserys' health began to decline again. He spent most of his time in his bedchamber (he never sat on the Iron Throne again due to the incident with the Velaryon's) where his courtiers, small council members, wife, children and the three grandchildren born from the incestuous marriage between his son and daughter visited him. As his health continued to worsen, a feeling of anxiety crept into the souls of the inhabitants of the Red Keep. With him dead, who was going to keep the Blacks and the Greens from going after each other's throats? What would the future hold after Viserys would pass away?

One faithful night another year later, the king would make a decision during his final days that would change the course of history for Westeros forever…

* * *

 _ ***= An avunculate marriage is an incestuous union between and uncle and his niece, or an aunt and her nephew. Marriages like these, especially the former, have been practiced by royal dynasties since the earliest civilizations. Infamous examples of this form intermarriage include: King Philip IV and Marianna of Austria (she was her uncle's second wife and their son, Charles II, was the final king of the Spanish-Hapsburg dynasty. He couldn't produce an heir due to being sterile and suffering from various physical and mental disabilities resulting from the generations of incest in his family) and Roman Emperor Claudius and Agrippina (Agrippina was the mother of Nero and her uncle's fourth wife. They did not have any children together and she may have poisoned Claudius to ensure her son's ascension to the throne.) Although not a member of royalty, Adolf Hitler was born from such a union as well. It could explain a few things...**_

 _ **Pardon the tangent but I couldn't resist.**_


	2. Chapter 1: A Father's Love

**_The Red Keep_**

 ** _129 AC_**

A chilly breeze blew into the window of the king's bedchambers and Viserys buried himself deeper into his blankets. The air from Blackwater Bay was always cool at night, but tonight as well as earlier that day, the breeze was unseasonably cold. The wind had changed direction that night and instead of blowing eastward, the current was flowing south and into the once cozy confines of the king's massive room. Not even the huge hearth within the chamber could stave off the chill that Viserys felt as he tried to keep his ailing body warm against the elements. As frail as he was, Viserys was still able to reach over with a shivering and mangled hand towards the cord to summon his faithful manservant Wesley to enter his chamber to close the window for him.

Within a few moments, Wesley entered his liege's bedchamber and he was by Viserys' side. The man must have been getting ready for bed or was sleeping when he dutifully answered his king's summons since he was dressed in his nightclothes. Viserys felt bad and he silently promised to himself to leave Wesley alone for the rest of the night until tomorrow.

"What would you like for me to do for you your grace?" Wesley asked, his tone full of concern with no hint of annoyance at all.

Viserys smiled softly and he gestured towards the offending window with his intact left hand.

"Can you please close the window for me Wesley? I am so sorry to have woken you." Wesley went off to do as told as the king continued speaking. "I would have done so myself but I have no strength left in my legs tonight."

"It is no problem my liege." Wesley spoke as he closed and latched the window shut, "your health has not been the best lately. Do not hesitate to call on me anytime if you need help with anything."

"I know I can always count on you Wesley…" Viserys said. Wesley had been in his service since he ascended the Iron Throne twenty-three years ago. Then, Wesley had recently become the manservant to Viserys's grandfather Jaehaerys, but his duty lasted only a day since the Old King died that same night. Instead, Wesley became the late king's grandson's manservant and he had served him faithfully and loyally since then. For his faithful service, Viserys helped to advance his manservant's family.

The king made Wesley's son Edmund into Prince Aegon the Elder's page when he was seven and his squire five years later. Edmund was still proudly serving Aegon and he eagerly waited for the day when he would become a full-fledged knight. To further Wesley's family into the upper echelons of society, Viserys helped to arrange for the marriages of his manservant's two daughters into rich but minor noble houses. Wesley had recently become a grandfather for the first time a month ago when his eldest daughter gave birth to a son and his youngest had recently announced that she was now with child for the first time herself. It was a long way from being the son of the Head Gaoler of the Red Keep and Wesley couldn't have been any happier or content with how his life had turned out.

After closing the window, Wesley turned to his king.

"Is there anything else you need of me your grace?" He asked politely.

The king shook his head. "No thank you Wesley, that will be all. Have a good night." Wesley bowed and he began to walk towards the door to leave when the king spoke again.

"Wait, there is something…"

Wesley turned around and he looked towards his king. Viserys' face was illuminated by the golden glow of the hearth's fire. Only twenty-six when he took the throne, Viserys was called the "Young King" by the people of the Seven Kingdoms, but now, he looked entirely different. The deaths of his first wife and their newborn son, coupled with the drama of his second wife over his daughter inheriting the Iron Throne before their firstborn son, and the scandals of his family had weighed on Viserys' face, weathering his flesh with wrinkles and wearying dark purple eyes that once sparkled with optimism and joy. Besides his face, Viserys' right hand still bore the two small reminders of the serious injury he had received on the Iron Throne when he sentenced Lord Corlys Velaryon's nephews and their wives and sons to be muted forever with red-hot pincers. He had gotten both his right ring and pinky fingers amputated and the king had suffered ever since from their painful removal three years earlier.

Wesley felt bad for his king. He didn't want his liege's peaceful reign to end with him as a broken and miserable man.

"Yes my lord?" Wesley asked, curious as to what his king had on his mind.

The king was silent for what felt like a full minute. Viserys looked from the floor, to the hearth and then to the canopy of his bed before his gaze focused back onto his manservant.

"Wesley, I have a question and I want you to answer me truthfully."

The manservant stiffened immediately and was taken aback. The king was so serious and he couldn't help but oblige.

"Of course my lord, what is it?"

"Do you think that Alicent will honor my wishes to have Rhaenyra crowned after I die? Will my sons? Will Ser Otto? Tell me Wesley, be honest with me…"

Wesley looked into his king's eyes and he sighed. He knew the answer and that the king was not going to like it.

"No your majesty, I believe your queen will not. Neither will your sons nor will your Hand. Why do you ask?"

"Because," Viserys said with a tone hinting towards defeat, "I have been thinking this over ever since my youngest daughter left with her children after visiting me tonight. Alicent usually joins me when our grandchildren come to visit and tonight she was absent. She is still angry with me after learning that Rhaenyra was planning on naming Jacaerys the Prince of Dragonstone."

Wesley nodded his head understandably. The most recent argument between the king and queen was very heated and Wesley, along with anyone else who was in the throne room that day, over a week ago, could do nothing but watch and listen. Since Viserys did not want to sit on the Iron Throne anymore after the incident with the Velaryon's, and during days when he was too ill to conduct his kingly duties from his bedchamber, he had his wife handle his affairs instead from the lofty and imposing seat. When he felt well enough to check on Alicent to see how she was doing, Wesley escorted his king when they came upon the queen discussing about Rhaenyra and her children with their second son Aemond.

" _Mother isn't there anything you can do about this? Why does father let that fat whore have whatever she wants? The Seven Kingdoms can't have a lovechild as its potential king along with his bitch of a mother preceding him as queen…"_ Aemond had spoken with a tone of bitterness in his voice. In the beams of sunlight that poured through the high windows of the throne room, the prince's silver-gold hair shined like freshly laid snow and the beautiful, and very costly, star sapphire that was firmly lodged into his empty right eye socket glimmered with blue flashes when the light hit it. Wesley could remember the deep and very audible sigh that was uttered by the queen.

 _"I understand how you feel my son, it angers me too. Your father has always lacked common sense, especially when it comes to your spoiled brat of a half-sister and her brown haired spawn. Even if she named the "Younger One" as Prince of Dragonstone, I still wouldn't accept it. I don't think anyone here could afford to have a man with Daemon's blood flowing through his veins becoming king of the Seven Kingdoms. That can only spell great misfortune for all of Westeros for sure…"_

The queen had been obviously referring to Rhaenyra's fourth born son Aegon. Alicent never called her step-grandson by his name, only referring to him by the aforementioned "Younger One" or as "Daemon's Prized Brat." Wisely on her part, Alicent was careful to bring up these names in front of her husband. But she didn't know that Viserys was present in the throne room and that he heard every word of it and once again, he came to the defense of his daughter and grandsons. His voice greatly startled Alicent and Aemond and they both turned as pale as the latter's hair when they became aware of the king's presence.

Queen Alicent stumbled over her words as the king tore into her for her callous remarks about his daughter and her children. Aemond tried to defend his mother, but he ended up getting chastised by his father as well. The argument grew with intensity when the courtiers who were members of the Green party defended their queen's anger. They protested that Jacaerys was obviously unsuited for the throne (taking precautions to not say 'bastard') and that the Targaryen Dynasty was going to be further tainted by the children he was to have with his fiancée and stepsister, Lady Baela Targaryen, regardless of the fact that she possessed pure Valyrian blood courtesy of her parents. If the reign of the Dragon Kings was to continue, it should be through Alicent's eldest son and in the future, his "pure born" son Jaehaerys.

The Blacks immediately spoke up to defend the honor of the princess and her eldest son. They pointed out that Aegon the Elder was not particularly well liked in the Seven Kingdoms for his drinking, overeating, and extramarital affairs. Speaking of which, the Blacks also brought up that shaming Rhaenyra as an adulteress was hypocritical since Aegon himself frequently cheated on his sister-wife with prostitutes and mistresses and had sired several bastards with them. They countered that Rhaenyra didn't chase around other men and she corrected her "folly" by later marrying her own uncle and giving birth to two sons born from pure Targaryen seed. The king and queen could only watch in stunned silence as the Blacks and Greens took up their argument with a fever pitch.

When swords were drawn, a frail Viserys immediately shouted for the hostilities to stop and it took the efforts of the castle guard and even the Kingsguard, and Ser Cole, to quell the fight before blood could be spilled. Ever since then, the queen and king hadn't spoken to each other. The distance between them was further compacted since Alicent had her own chambers in Maegor's Holdfast. Alicent had moved into her new room nine years earlier out of anger when her husband didn't punish Lucerys for cutting out Aemond's eye and instead forced her to "apologize" to her stepdaughter for fighting with her over the incident and the two hadn't shared their marital bed since then. Viserys was staring into the flames of his hearth before he spoke again, this time, his voice was as hard as stone.

"Wesley, summon Ser Steffon Darklyn and Lord Lyman Beesbury into my chambers. I need to speak with them."

Wesley blinked when he heard the command.

"Now my lord?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes now, get them immediately. When they are assembled, I want you to stay until I tell you to go, do you understand me Wesley?"

The king turned to look at Wesley and the manservant felt a chill slither up his spine like an adder creeping up towards an unsuspecting mouse. Viserys' purple eyes were now burning with fierce determination. Without needing to be told again, Wesley did as commanded. Despite being two and fifty, the same age as the king himself, Wesley's legs carried him all the way to the Whitesword Tower to rouse the Black affiliated Kingsguard knight. Thankfully Ser Steffon hadn't fallen asleep yet and he immediately answered the king's mysterious late night summons without question. Next, Wesley took off for Lord Lyman's chambers near the Tower of the Hand.

The eighty year old Master of Coin was sound asleep in his bed when the anxious manservant roused him from his slumber. Cursing at first for being awakened, Lyman immediately became silent upon hearing of the king's urgent request to see him. Despite being old, Lyman immediately got up and took his walking stick with him and he hobbled after Wesley to the king's bedchamber. When all of the men had been assembled, Wesley closed the door behind him and he stood by his king's bedside. Ser Steffon was the first to speak.

"Now that Lord Beesbury and Wesley are here your majesty, can you please tell us what you have in mind? What is so serious that you had to send Wesley to fetch us from our beds in the middle of the night?"

"My thoughts exactly Ser Darklyn." Lyman said. "What is going on here your grace?"

Viserys moved his gaze from the fire to the eyes of the three men who were with him now. He leaned forward like he wanted to whisper a secret to them. Lyman, Steffon and Wesley inched forward to listen better.

"Before I begin, I want to know that you three will keep what I am going to say to you in the strictest of confidence. Do you all understand me?"

The men nodded as they anxiously anticipated their liege's words.

"I have been thinking this over and tonight, thanks to Wesley, I can finally accept the truth that I have been willingly blind to all along."

Steffon and Lyman both raised their eyebrows curiously when they heard this.

"We all know that ever since the birth of my son Aegon, my wife and daughter have been at each other's throats. I have mediated between them each and every time they became wroth with each other. But I am not like my grandfather. He was able to make Houses Bracken and Blackwood end their family feud and make peace with each other for the first time in their history, but in the present day, I can barely make my own family put aside their differences and get along. The Iron Throne has permanently divided them and when I die, there won't be anyone here to keep the swords of the Blacks and the Greens sheathed this time.

Alicent will make sure that Aegon gets the throne and she will do everything she can to bar my daughter and her sons from their rightful inheritance. Otto wasn't satisfied when I married his daughter and made her my queen. He wants to have his grandson take the throne as king so that the power of House Hightower can become almighty throughout the Seven Kingdoms…"

All three of the men looked raptly upon their dying king. They absorbed his words and they became solemn as Viserys laid bare the troubles of his heart to them. It was a humbling experience…

"I ask you three to help me now." The king continued, "I love the children I had with Alicent with all my heart, but I love Rhaenrya just as much. She is the only child that survived being born during my marriage to my sweet and delicate Aemma… Even though she is a woman, Rhaenyra is my oldest child and she is more politically inclined than Aegon who is, forgive me, lazy and sullen. She will be a great queen and regardless of the legitimacy of Jace, Luke and Joff, they are my grandsons and Jacaerys will make a great king someday.

He has the blood of the dragon in him and from what Rhaenyra has told me, he has the skill of diplomacy, just like his great-great-grandfather…"

Lord Lyman wiped away some tears that had formed in his eyes and even the eyes of Ser Steffon and Wesley glistened.

"I know my end is near." The king continued, "I know I can trust you three. You all support Rhaenyra and I want you all to make sure that she gets the Iron Throne. I do not want any of the schemes of my wife and her father to come to fruition. Will you please help me?"

All three men nodded their heads and they began to plan the steps of their conspiracy. Four days later, Wesley checked on the king and he found him in his bed taking a nap. Seeing how still the king was, Wesley checked his pulse and he discovered that the king had died in his sleep. Almost immediately, Wesley put the plan that was devised by the king and his fellow conspirators into action. Wesley hailed a passing servant and commanded him to summon Ser Steffon and Lord Lyman at once saying that the king needed to see them about a certain matter that was privy only to them.

After they were summoned and told of the king's passing, Ser Steffon and Lord Lyman quickly went over their duties and then parted to fulfill their tasks. Steffon guarded the door to Viserys' bedchamber while Wesley immediately went to Aegon's Sept ***** in King's Landing to bring in Silent Sisters who he had arranged a few days earlier to be disguised as ordinary septas to come into the king's chamber for a session of "faith healing." In truth, they were to wrap up the body in a shroud and quietly sneak it out through a secret passage in the chamber. Lyman wrote a letter to Rhaenyra announcing her father's passing and how she must send her husband, former mother-in-law and oldest sons to King's Landing to secure her throne since she couldn't go herself due to being eight months pregnant with her sixth child. After he was done, Lyman quickly tied the message to a raven and after checking to make sure the letter was securely fastened, he released the bird towards the direction of Dragonstone.

Lyman fervently prayed that the message would reach the princess soon before Alicent and her family caught on to the conspiracy. The Master of Coin was more than happy to help keep the queen's brood off of the Iron Throne. Years earlier in 113 AC, when Viserys was looking for a potential husband for Rhaenyra, the king had considered Lyman's grandnephew, Ser Oscar Beesbury, as a possible son-in-law. However, Queen Alicent discouraged her husband's choice. Since both House Beesbury and Hightower were from the Reach and were two of the ruling House Tyrell's most powerful bannermen, the two were rivals.

Alicent didn't want another Beesbury in her court and she told her husband that Oscar was a known lecher and that he was cruel to women. This was a lie and it dealt immense damage to Oscar's reputation. Lyman could remember receiving a letter from his nephew Liam, the Lord of Honeyholt, and how it described the heartbreaking news on how his son had attempted to commit suicide due to Queen Alicent's lies. Lord Lyman never forgave the queen for what she had done. But there was another reason why he wanted to ensure Rhaenyra's ascension.

The old man remembered swearing an oath of fealty to the then eight year old princess in 105 AC during that memorable feast when Viserys named his daughter his heir to the Iron Throne. Lyman was a man of his word, and he was going to keep it no matter what. Ser Steffon Darklyn wanted to help Rhaenyra as well for the same reasons. He swore an oath to her that day too all those years ago. He also disliked the glaring flaws that were present in the queen's sons: Aegon's laziness and skirt chasing, Aemond's wild behavior and short temper, and Daeron, although kind and gentle, was a pushover and he could be easily manipulated by his family and courtiers to do their bidding.

Wesley meanwhile simply wanted to help fulfill his late king's final wish. His position regarding the succession of the crown was neutral but Wesley's loyalties were only to his king. Whatever he wished for, Wesley was determined to make sure that it happened. After he learned about the flight of the raven, Wesley, Steffon and Lyman continued with the rest of their plan and they began the long wait for Princess Rhaenyra to receive the letter. They wouldn't have long to wait...

* * *

 _ ***= The Great Sept of Baelor replaced the original, nameless sept in the canon story line.**_

 _ **And so the conspiracy begins. Fates will be altered and destinies rewritten... There will be many more OC's to come, both human and dragons, and I also intend to add music to accompany certain parts in my chapters as well in the future. Stay tuned for extra content as the story progresses! Thank you for reading and**_ _ **please review! :)**_


	3. Chapter 2: The Black Conspiracy

**_Dragonstone_**

"Tell us when you first flew Caraxes father." Aegon the Younger asked Daemon from his bed. The request had come when Prince Daemon had asked his two sons what story they wanted to listen to before they went to bed. The prince's younger brother, seven year old Viserys, eagerly spoke up in response to his brother's request.

"Yes, please tell us that one father! Please!"

Daemon gave a fatherly smile towards his sons and he couldn't help but indulge them.

"Very well," the middle-aged man said, "I shall tell you."

The prince leaned in so his sons could hear him better as he began the story.

"When I was a boy of nine years of age, Caraxes had finally grown big enough for me fly on his back. But I couldn't mount him yet since my father, your grandfather, had locked me in my room to punish me."

"What did you do?" Viserys asked innocently, resulting in an amused snort from his father.

"I had given little Lord Mervyn Fossoway a black eye during an argument. I forget what it was about but because of it, my father had me locked in my room and I wasn't given supper as a result too. But anyway, I managed to sneak out by tying my bed sheets together into a rope and then climbing out of my window with them. After landing in the garden, I managed to sneak out of the Red Keep through a secret passage and I made my way into King's Landing."

Aegon and Viserys looked at their father with eyes as wide as saucers.

"You went into King's Landing by yourself?!" Aegon said in disbelief.

"Didn't you run into beggars or thieves?" Viserys asked with awe.

"No, I managed to avoid them as I traversed the labyrinth that is King's Landing's streets and I got to the Dragonpit on Rhaenys's Hill unharmed. There, I released Caraxes and I took him outside and together, we ascended into the sky. Mind you, I did this all without a harness or saddle."

The boys' mouths dropped and their purple eyes widened even further when they heard this. Flying a dragon without a chain harness was a death sentence to any Valyrian who hadn't yet mastered the art of flying a dragon. You could get thrown off and fall to your death if one wasn't properly fastened to their mount.

"How did you fly the "Bloodwyrm" without a chain father?" Aegon asked.

"Well," Daemon said, "I held on to Caraxes's neck with all my might. It was such a sight to behold when we were flying. Seeing the lights from the torches and braziers in the city streets as little glowing pinpoints, feeling the cool night air turn almost frigid as Caraxes flew, breathing in pure air that was not tainted by the foul odors of the capitol, it was simply breathtaking…" Daemon said with gusto, relishing the memory fondly. "But during our flight, the City Guards and the men patrolling the Red Keep's battlements took notice of us and they immediately alerted my father and mother. After flying a little longer, I had Caraxes descend back to the Dragonpit. I had a welcoming party coming to greet me when I landed and it consisted of my father and some castle guards and members of the Gold Cloaks.

If you two could have seen your grandfather's face as he approached me, he was so mad! He could have scared a grown lion away with that face!"

Daemon laughed aloud as he remembered and his children looked at him eagerly as they anxiously awaited to hear the rest of their father's story.

"What did grandfather do to you father?" Aegon asked after Daemon finished laughing.

"He boxed my ears so hard that they were red and swollen for a week afterwards. But it was worth it since I got to ride Caraxes, not to mention escaping my room without anyone noticing too. And speaking of which, my father also made sure to post a sentry beneath my window to make sure I didn't escape through there again."

Smirking, Daemon looked at his sons. Aegon spoke again.

"Can you tell us another story father? Please?"

"No Aegon," a familiar voice answered, "It is time for you two to go to sleep."

Daemon looked over his shoulder to see his wife standing in the doorway. Her silver-gold hair was tied in a long braid she had draped over her right shoulder and she was wearing a loose-fitting silk dress that bore the colors of wine purple and lilac that shimmered in the candlelight and allowed her eight month pregnant belly to bulge out gently. Ever since she found out that she was pregnant again late of last year, Rhaenyra had been praying every morning and night for the babe within her womb to be a girl. Daemon couldn't blame her for wanting a daughter after having five sons. Rhaenyra wanted to have somebody else to talk about feminine issues with besides her twin stepdaughters/first cousins and she wanted to buy dresses and jewelry for a little girl of her own. Daemon was confident that since he had twin girls born to him from his marriage to his cousin's daughter, he was positive that his seed would cause a little girl to sprout in his niece's womb sooner or later.

"But mother—" Aegon protested but he was cut off by the princess.

"Not another word my son. It is time you two went to bed. Both of you have lessons starting early tomorrow morning and you need to rest."

The boys groaned upon hearing that. Even though their studies were interesting enough, especially for Viserys, their tutor, Maester Gerardys, was old and terribly dull and it took every ounce of willpower within the young lads to not fall asleep from boredom. Besides studying subjects like geography, history and rhetoric, the boys also practiced swordplay in the training yard of Dragonstone alongside their older half-brothers. It was especially interesting to watch Jace and Luke spar. Luke usually won his skirmishes with his oldest brother because he was a natural with blades was quick on his feet and very strong.

Jace won some of his fights by using trickery and cunning and this often led to the brothers engaging into fisticuffs and subsequently needing to be pulled apart by their stepfather and scolded by their mother. Aegon and Viserys thought it was funny how their half-brothers were almost grown men and they still needed to be disciplined by their mother for misbehaving as if they were still little boys. Their third half-brother Jofferey, or Joff as he was affectionately called, possessed a mixture of both his older brothers' qualities. He was smart and cunning like Jacaerys and strong and swift like Lucerys, however, he was still nervous to get into a mock battle with either of them, especially with Luke. Jace was still sporting a chicken egg sized bruise on his collarbone when Lucerys struck him there with the "pommel" of his fake sword and Luke bore a sore discoloration on the left side of his ribs from Jacaerys hitting them there during one such fight the day before.

Needless to say, Joff was a little wary of getting badly bruised by his brothers. Aegon and Viserys were nervous about engaging their half-brothers into mock fights but they were still young and they needed more practice, so they were safe for now. Daemon moved aside and put the chair he was sitting on away while his wife tucked their sons in. After pulling the blanket up to their chins and kissing each of them good night, the two princes closed their eyes and went to sleep. Rhaenyra then went around their bed to close the curtains for them and despite being heavily pregnant, she was still able perform the simple task with some ease.

After making sure that her sons were not going to suffer from any chills during the night from the cold sea air, Rhaenyra departed the room with her husband after he blew out the candle on the desk next to the wall. The two walked side by side, with Rhaenyra cradling her pregnant stomach with both hands. They walked in silence until Daemon spoke.

"So, have you thought up of any new names for our soon-to-be arrival?" he asked his wife.

Rhaenyra considered her uncle's question before responding. "Yes I have in fact. I have settled on Visenya if this is finally a girl."

"Visenya?" Daemon replied, "That's a pretty name. Do you hope for her to grow up like our famous warrior ancestress?"

"Well, no…" Rhaenyra said, "I expect her to become a proper young lady, not a dark and frightening witch that the Conqueror's older sister-wife became when she wanted her son Maegor to succeed his older half-brother Aenys."

"Any boy names in case you are having yet another son?" Daemon asked.

"I do have one in mind."

"What is it?"

"Vaegon."

"Vaegon?" Daemon asked curiously. "After my uncle Vaegon?"

Vaegon Targaryen was the fifth son and the seventh of thirteen children who were born to Daemon's grandparents Jaehaerys and Alysanne. Like his father, Vaegon was an intellectual and he studied under his father's best friend, Grandmaester Barth. Inspired by what he had learned, and from his very low rung on the line of succession, Vaegon took up the chain of maesterhood and he traveled to the Citadel in Oldtown to live and work on unraveling and recording the mysteries of the world. With his intellect, Vaegon ascended the ranks of the Citadel and by the time his nephew Viserys became king, he was an Archmaester. Even with the responsibilities of his grand title weighing on his shoulders, Vaegon found the time to attend his beloved father's funeral and his nephew's coronation in 103 AC.

Rhaenyra remembered her granduncle fondly even though he scarcely visited due to his duties. During these few visits, Vaegon would sometimes bring his grandniece presents like tomes that were finely embellished with detailed illustrations that were painted with vibrant colors and stamped gold leaf that described interesting stories from House Targaryen's history like the Doom of Valyria, Aegon's Conquest, the Faith Militant Uprising and the reign of Rhaenyra's great-grandfather King Jaehaerys Targaryen. Sadly, Archmaester Vaegon had died six months earlier at the age of two and seventy from a cancerous tumor that had been plaguing his liver. Rhaenyra learned of her great-uncle's death from a letter her father had instructed a scribe to write for him and it conveyed the sadness that Viserys was feeling upon the death of his beloved uncle.

The king's younger brother meanwhile, did not really care about his uncle's passing. Hearing that his niece-wife wanted to name their unborn child after Vaegon if it was a boy caused Daemon to speak up in protest.

"Why would you name our child after him?"

"Because he was a charming and intelligent man uncle." Rhaenyra said with a defensive tone.

"Well you were never subjugated to study sessions with him whenever he visited my grandfather during his reign. My uncle was so strict and he demanded your father and I to always sit straight in our chairs and to read entire chapters from these dusty old books that seemed to weigh as much as a good set of plate armor and to recite what we had learned from these readings. He always smacked me on the back of my head whenever I answered a question wrong…"

The look of petulant anger on her uncle's face caused Rhaenyra to giggle.

"But from what father has told me, you weren't exactly the best student uncle."

"Well, man wasn't meant to sit in some dark and cobweb infested library to study tome after tome on people and deeds that nobody remembers. A man is meant to exercise his body first and his mind second. And besides, there was too much to memorize from those damn books…"

Before Rhaenyra could counter her husband's argument, the sound of running footsteps echoed down the hallway. It was coming their way and soon a robed and hooded figure came into view. Ironically enough, it was Maester Gerardys, and he was running as fast as his old legs could carry him towards the couple. He stopped just in front of Daemon and Rhaenyra, panting and clutching his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

"What is wrong Maester Gerardys?" the princess asked as the sixty-nine year old man continued trying to catch his breath.

"The king… the king…" the old man wheezed out. After finally collecting enough breath, the maester straightened himself back up and he removed his hood so that the crown princess and prince could see his weathered face. Gerardys had grey eyes and long silvery hair that had once been golden ginger in color and tied in a ponytail. The old man's eyes appeared to be sad, but then again they always looked that way even when he was happy for as long as Rhaenyra could remember. The princess became concerned when Gerardys mentioned her father as did her husband about his older brother.

"What about my brother?" Daemon asked in a gruff voice. "Is he alright? Did he send us an invitation for something? What is it?" he continued quickly with impatience.

"A raven has just arrived a few moments ago my lord and lady." Gerardys replied. "I am afraid that its message bore some grave news about the king." He then faced Rhaenyra. "The letter told me that your father has passed away tonight."

"No…!" Rhaenyra said sharply, bringing her right hand up to her mouth in shock as tears began to well up in her eyes. Her husband firmly grabbed her shoulders to prevent her from falling down with grief. Daemon became stiff and his eyes dark. He was not one to show emotion and Daemon had frequently butted heads with Viserys, as brothers usually do, but when he spoke, his voice was soft and gentle.

"Was there anything else in that letter maester? It sounds like you have more to tell us."

"Yes there was my lord. I would usually suggest that we should first escort the princess to her bedchamber so that she can rest. Grief can put strain on both you and your unborn child my grace, however, what I have to say must be told urgently.

A lachrymose Rhaenyra looked towards Gerardys with gleaming eyes. "What is it?" she asked through a choked voice followed by a sniffle.

Maester Gerardys continued. "The letter was written by your father's Master of Coin, Lord Lyman Beesbury. He has written that prior to his death, your father had formulated a plan to help secure your succession from your half-brother Aegon. Ser Steffon Darklyn, Wesley and Lyman have all done their parts, now it is our turn to do ours."

Daemon and Rhaenyra listened intently. The princess's tear stained face changed from grief to one of concentration as Gerardys continued.

"The king planned to have Prince Daemon, along with Princess Rhaenys and your two oldest sons your grace, to fly to the Red Keep on their dragons as soon as possible after the delivery of the letter. There, they are to secure the Iron Throne and Prince Daemon is to rule in your stead until you give birth and recover so that you can be crowned queen my lady."

"What of Alicent and her family?" Rhaenyra asked. Bitterness hugged her words. The mere mentioning of Alicent and her offspring was more than enough to leave a bad taste in the princess's mouth. "Do they know of my father's death yet?"

"No and that is why the king's conspirators want you to act quickly. It would be bad for you my lady if your stepmother and half-siblings were to find out about the king's death. Both Viserys and Ser Darklyn agreed that putting Alicent and her family under house arrest should prevent them from doing anything to threaten your rights to the throne for the time being until after your coronation my lady. Afterwards, you can do whatever you wish with them."

Rhaenyra, who was leaning against her uncle, slowly straightened her posture. She wiped away her tears, her purple eyes now burning with an amethyst fire that seemed threaten Gerardys with the possibility of being scorched by the princess's dragon blood.

"And so it shall be." She said finally, her voice as strong and as cold as the glaciers of the farthest reaches of the North. "Gerardys, take me to my bedchamber. Daemon," she turned to her uncle-husband, "get everyone assembled into my room. Just like Lord Beesbury said in his letter, we must act quickly. Now hurry!"

With that command, Daemon rushed off towards the Hall of the Painted Table while Maester Gerardys escorted the pregnant future queen to her bedchamber. In the Hall of the Painted Table, Daemon found his family surrounding the aforementioned furniture that took up the entire room. It was a giant full-scale map of Westeros, complete with raised mountains and rivers carved and painted on the top. The names of towns and cities dotted the entire wooden landmass. Centuries before, Aegon the Conqueror had this table created so as to help him and his two sister-wives Visenya and Rhaenys in conquering the continent with their dragons and allies and thereafter, establishing the mighty Targaryen Dynasty.

Corlys Velaryon was pointing at the area on the Table that was the Stormlands. The "Sea Snake" was looking at his grandchildren with an expectant look.

"Come now, didn't either of you pay any attention to Maester Gerardys's geography lessons when you were younger? There are only seven kingdoms to remember…"

Corlys's voice sounded weary, not just from age, but from his patience being taxed. Lucerys scrutinized the area where his grandfather was pointing. He spoke first before his older brother did.

"Is it the Vale?" He asked. Corlys sighed while his wife gave her second born grandson a pained look and Daemon couldn't help but share his cousin's expression. Lucerys had never been good at geography and memorizing where important towns and cities were, but as far as the boy's stepfather was concerned, Lucerys more than made up for this with his skill with blades.

"No Lucerys.," Corlys said after kneading the bridge of his nose. "This is the Stormlands. They are south of the Crowlands."

"Sorry grandfather…" Lucerys said disappointingly. The young lady on Luke's left gently patted his back to comfort him.

"It is alright Luke. We all make mistakes…"

The voice belonged to Daemon's daughter Rhaena. Both she and her twin sister Baela, who was by Jacaerys's side, were standing by the side of the table that was by the door. The stepsiblings, and cousins, were engaged to each other, with Jace being intended to wed Baela while Luke was going to marry Rhaena. Their grandmother Rhaenys was standing by her youngest grandson Jofferey, sandwiching the prince between both his paternal grandparents. Having outlived both their children, the couple dearly loved their grandchildren; Laena's twin girls and Laenor's three "boys" were pampered greatly by their grandparents.

Despite the possibility that their son may not have fathered their grandsons, Rhaenys and Corlys still doted on them. Just as Corlys was about to speak, Daemon spoke aloud to get their attention.

"Everyone, I need your attention!"

Startled, everyone either turned or looked over towards Daemon.

"What is going on cousin?" Rhaenys asked, astonished by her cousin/former son-in-law's interruption. With all eyes on him now, Daemon made his announcement.

"I am sorry for interrupting your lesson Corlys, but Rhaenyra demands that we all come to her bedchamber at once. Maester Gerardys has just received a letter with some terribly important news that you need to hear from the princess directly."

After a brief exchange of glances, the entire family marched out of the chamber and they briskly made their way to the princess's bedchamber. Rhaenyra was reclining against a raised pillow reading the letter that Gerardys had received when her family, being led by Daemon, filed into her room. Concern flickered in their eyes as the family surrounded the expecting princess's bed.

"What is going on mother?" Jace asked.

"Did something happen to grandfather?" Joff asked, not knowing how close to the truth he actually was. Rhaenyra acknowledged her third born son's question.

"Yes my sweet, something has happened to your grandfather. I regret to inform you all that he has passed away tonight."

Gasps echoed across the bedchamber along with the popping and crackling of the fire in the hearth. Rhaenyra sadly noticed how her sons and stepdaughters bowed their heads with sorrow upon hearing the grim news.

"Oh Viserys…" Rhaenys whispered as she clasped her hands together over her heart. Her husband placed his left hand on Rhaenys' shoulder to comfort her. The cousins had grown up together in the court of their grandfather. After the death of her father Aemon in 92 AC, Rhaenys became a candidate for inheriting the Iron Throne. However her grandfather named his sole surviving eldest son, her uncle and Viserys's father, Prince Baelon as his heir. After his death from a burst appendix in 101 AC, Viserys was chosen over Rhaenys's son Laenor to become the next king by the Great Council of that year at Harranhal.

Rhaenys was bitter at first, but she grew to accept it and she settled with remaining as a princess; later as Lady of Driftmark after her marriage to Corlys.

"With grandfather's death mother," Luke interjected, "that means you are now Queen of the Seven Kingdoms."

"Yes my son, I am now queen but there is more that has to be done to ensure my succession."

Everyone listened to Rhaenyra as she explained what had to be done according to Lord Beesbury's letter. Everyone nodded in agreement upon hearing of the task that they were about to undertake.

"Do you all understand what needs to be done?" Everyone nodded. "Good, the night is still young but if you leave now, you should be able to arrive at King's Landing by the first light of dawn. Claim the Iron Throne out from under the nose of that Hightower bitch and her Greens! Now go!"

Daemon, Jacaerys, Lucerys and Rhaenys quickly exited the chamber to rouse their dragons for the flight. Baela and Jofferey followed them but they were stopped by Rhaenyra.

"Where are you two going?" Rhaenyra asked.

"We are going with them mother." Baela told her stepmother in a matter-of-fact tone. Jofferey nodded in silent agreement with his stepsister.

"No you two will not." The princess said, "Both of you are going to stay here with me along with everyone else."

"Why?" Baela argued, "Jofferey and I are just as capable as my father and stepbrothers."

"Please mother? Let us go secure your throne for you…" Jofferey pleaded but his mother would have none of it.

"I am very well aware of your wishes my dears…" Rhaenyra continued as her son and stepdaughter protested. "But Moondancer and Tyraxes are not as intimidating as your grandmother's and Daemon's dragons are. Jace and Luke's dragons may be young, but they are older than yours and they are bigger and a little more fearsome. Don't be angry with me, this is for the best."

Baela and Jofferey conceded defeat. They both knew that their dragons were still too young with Joff's Tyraxes being large but still not strong enough to carry him in flight and Moondancer, as fierce as she was, was the size of a warhorse and she wasn't as intimidating as Caraxes or Meleys yet. Both the prince and princess prayed that one day their dragons would become as majestic and feared as the dragons of the Conquest: Balerion, Vhagar and Meraxes were. The two then joined their mother, stepmother, twin sister and grandfather in mourning over the loss of the king, a beloved father and uncle. The scene was made all the more sadder when Rhaenyra felt her unborn child kick since he or she was never going to meet their grandfather after their birth…

* * *

 _The Red Keep_

 _Dawn_

All was quiet at the Red Keep. Servants, courtiers and government officials slept soundly in their beds as the first rays of the sun began to color the horizon with gold and rich reddish pink hues. The capitol of King's Landing was quiet too as the night sky began to lighten. The only souls who were awake during these silent hours were the castle guards that were on patrol for their midnight to morning shifts. Despite the hour, the guards were all nervous.

They too were part of the late king's conspiracy ever since Ser Steffon told the captain of the guards to stay on the lookout for the dragons of the king's brother, cousin and two oldest grandsons. To make sure that the plan went off without a hitch, Steffon made sure to dismiss the men who were known to have Green sympathies and to replace them with those who were aligned with the Blacks, or could be bribed into being a Black loyalist for the day. As the sun rose over the horizon of Blackwater Bay, one guard who was patrolling the battlements over the sea saw two black dots appear above the rising sun. Soon, two more dots followed suit and the guard immediately knew that their "guests" were soon to arrive. The guard immediately alerted the others.

The news was soon spread to Wesley, who in turn told Ser Darklyn and Lord Beesbury. All three men waited in the throne room for Prince Daemon and his family to arrive to secure the Iron Throne as planned. Caraxes flew towards the battlement that the guard who first saw him and his retinue was on and he landed on top of it. A large dragon (but only half the size of the imposing Vhagar), Caraxes' body was covered with vermillion scales, his wings had sable membranes and eyes as black as pitch. The beast looked over its surroundings with its terrifying eyes, snarling and causing many of the guards to tremble with fear.

Landing on the battlements opposite of Caraxes were Vermax and Arrax. The dragons of Jacaerys and Lucerys respectively, they were young creatures and had just grown big enough to carry their masters in flight. Vermax was yellow with a belly and wing membranes of a paler shade of the same color and black horns. Arrax was the color of jade with very light green wing membranes, dark green horns and eyes whose color resembled that of the flesh of a Dornish lime. The biggest and most imposing dragon of them all, even more so than Caraxes, was Meleys.

The beloved mount of Princess Rhaenys, Meleys was slightly smaller than the legendary Vhagar yet bigger than Aegon the Elder's much adored Sunfyre. She possessed scarlet scales, pink wing membranes and horns and claws that were the color of beaten copper. Because of her coloring, Meleys was known as the "Red Queen." Due to her immense size, Meleys and Rhaenys had to land in the entrance courtyard of the castle. After landing, the princess, her cousin and two grandsons were each met by Steffon and were escorted to the throne room by him.

The sounds of flapping wings, growling and hissing soon made their way to the ears of the sleeping queen in Maegor's Holdfast. Alicent opened her eyes slowly, convinced that the bizarre noises were part of some strange dream. Her tiredness soon turned to concern when she realized that the noises were not from her dreams, but from outside the Red Keep. Pulling off her blanket, Alicent walked outside onto her veranda to see what was going on. She looked over the city.

Alicent couldn't see any dragons flying out from the Dragonpit, the home of House Targaryen's dragons. She looked down towards the front gate and she gasped in shock. Down below, she saw the large red body of her cousin-in-law's dragon.

"What in the seven hells? Why is she here?" Alicent said aloud to herself. Thinking quickly, Alicent pulled on the cord in her room to summon her maidservant. The girl came within minutes of being summoned, looking very tired and was rubbing away some sand that had accumulated in her left eye. After being dressed in a lovely pine green and white dress and her royal crown (made of solid gold with the circumference being decorated with diamond shaped pieces of gold that were studded with deep red garnets and black onyx), Alicent ordered the girl to go alert her family and Ser Criston Cole to the arrival of Rhaenys and to have them meet her in the hallway leading up to the throne room.

The maid immediately went to do as she was told and Alicent made her way towards the hallway. Torches held in wrought iron sconces lit up the stone hallway as the queen waited for her family. The first to arrive was Alicent's father, Ser Otto Hightower. Both a knight and an intellectual, the white haired Otto still-retained a well-honed physique and a sharp mind at the age of seventy. On his grey robes was the golden badge that symbolized his rank as the Hand of the King, the second most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms after the king himself.

As usual, Otto bore a fearsome scowl on his face. Alicent could never remember seeing her father smile or showing any affection towards his wife and children. Due to having two older brothers dying while young; with one passing away during his infancy and the other when he was a child, and having only one younger sibling, Gwayne, Alicent was groomed by her father to become a potential asset to help slake his thirst for power at the Red Keep. When she bloomed for the first time, Otto decided it was time to put his daughter to "use." Around that same time, Ser Otto became the Hand of the King to Jaehaerys Targaryen, the First of His Name, and Otto decided to bring his only daughter to the court of the Red Keep in 101 AC when she was thirteen years old with the hopes that she could marry a high ranking courtier.

Since the Old King was ailing, Ser Otto made his daughter into Jaehaerys's primary caregiver, a time Alicent reminisced on rather fondly. They were peaceful times; she would help dress, feed, bathe (with some help of course) and read to the king as his once brilliant mind fell into a fog of delirium. One evening in 103 AC, Alicent was reading to the Old King when he passed away in his sleep. Two years later in 105 AC, King Viserys's wife died in childbirth with their newborn son passing away just a day after taking his first breath. With the death of the queen, Otto found an opportunity to marry into the royal family and a year later, Lady Alicent became the second queen consort of the fifth Targaryen king.

During their marriage, Alicent secretly prided herself on the strength of her womb. Unlike the late Aemma Arryn, Alicent was able to bear her husband four healthy and beautiful children, with three of them being sons, and she didn't suffer from any miscarriages either. Speaking of which, the queen saw her daughter and two of her three sons coming down the hall after their grandfather. Helaena, Aemond, and Daeron briskly made their way down the hall towards their mother. Seeing her only daughter made the queen smile.

Even though she had given the king three heirs, it was no secret that Helaena was Alicent's favorite child. Helaena was a rotund young woman with long silver-gold hair and royal purple eyes. The princess had been big bodied since she was a girl but that meant nothing next to her personality. Helaena was a sweetheart with a heart of gold who couldn't see wrong in anyone (with her older half-sister being an exception) and was a terrific mother to her three children, the twins Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, and their little brother Maelor. Alicent noticed that Aegon was not with his sister-wife and the queen could feel herself sighing wearily internally; once again, Helaena had been alone in her bed while her husband was warming up another one whilst in the embrace of a different woman.

Aemond, a passionate and temperamental man at the age of nine and ten, had given both the king and queen many gray hairs due to his impulsiveness and the mischief he partook in when he was growing up. Regardless, Alicent loved her second born son with all her heart. She especially loved how Aemond was so loyal to his family and to his older brother's right to the throne. Difficult as he was, Aemond knew to prioritize the needs of his family above all else. Alicent knew without a shadow of a doubt that her son would die for her and their family.

Last but not least was fifteen year old Daeron. Being their youngest child, both Viserys and Alicent adored and doted on Daeron. Unlike his older brothers, Daeron was more kindhearted, generous, and thoughtful, a personality that he shared with his older sister. Another thing that differentiated Daeron from Aegon and Aemond in their mother's opinion, along every young maidens' thoughts in the Red Keep, was that he was most handsome of the three princes. He had fair silver-gold hair and kind looking indigo eyes. To add to his allure, Daeron was intelligent and courteous.

As the family approached Alicent, Ser Criston Cole came into the hallway, his plate armor rattling as the metal moved with its owner. Criston was still as handsome as he was on the day he won the Tourney at Maidenpool all those years ago, even with lines of middle age beginning to fan out from the corners of his green eyes. He kept his beard trimmed to his jawline and his black hair impeccably groomed as well. He stopped several feet in front of the queen and her family to bow to them before he faced Alicent again. He was about to speak when the queen's father spoke up.

"What is going on Alicent?" Ser Otto asked, "Where is your husband?"

After her grandfather spoke, it was Helaena's turn to inquire her mother. "Yes mother what is going on? Why were woken up so early in the morning?"

"I don't know where my husband is father, maybe he isn't feeling well, but that is beside the point." Alicent said before turning to her daughter, "Just recently, I awoke to find that your father's cousin Rhaenys has come for a surprise visit with her dragon."

Alicent's family and Ser Cole looked at the queen with curious surprise.

"The Lady of Driftmark is here?" Ser Cole asked himself.

"That is strange…" Daeron said, "Why would she be here? There is nothing special going on."

"I hope she hasn't brought the bastards with her…" Aemond muttered. It was loud enough for everyone present to hear and Helaena gave her brother an angry look.

"Aemond, I hope you can still that tongue of yours when we get to the throne room. Father might be there."

"My thoughts exactly Helaena." The queen said and she turned towards the hallway. "Let's go to the throne room. We will find out what this is all about together."

The family followed the queen in silence. It was well known that the queen and "The Queen Who Never Was", as Rhaenys was called, were not fond of each other and Rhaenys never visited the Red Keep without her family in tow. As they silently debated the nature behind Rhaenys' presence at the Keep, Alicent spoke to her daughter.

"Are the children still sleeping darling?"

"Yes they are mother. I have left them in the care of Septa Eunice until I return."

"Good." Alicent said. Rushing footsteps caught everyone's attention and they turned to see who was making them. It was Aegon, now dressed in nice clothes that were becoming stained with his sweat and wearing the crown of Aegon the Conqueror upon his head. He looked exactly like his father with his round face, paunchy stomach and a fair-haired mustache that covered his upper lip. However, Aegon had a more miserable complexion in comparison to his father, who always looked happy.

"About time you arrived Aegon." Alicent said bluntly. The queen had championed her son's right to be the Prince of Dragonstone ever since the day he was born but as he grew up, he rarely showed any sign that he was meant for kingship. When he was meant to participate in his lessons, he would instead abscond off towards the Dragonpit to tend to his beloved dragon Sunfyre, he would sleep during small council meetings, greatly embarrassing his father and grandfather, and his most glaring flaw of all, he would ignore his wife and children for the company of his paramours and prostitutes; his most recent lover being a young and shapely red-headed woman who known only as Ruby. To say that Alicent's disappointment in her son was great was an understatement. Aegon returned his mother and sister-wife's looks with indifference and he mumbled a weak apology before the entourage continued on their way.

As the family reached the Iron Throne, Alicent noticed that there were dozens of courtiers standing in attendance in the hall. She recognized them as men and women who were loyal to her stepdaughter Princess Rhaenyra. Why were they all in the throne room so early in the morning? As she rounded the throne, Alicent saw the silver-gold hair of Rhaenys and then the brown heads of Jacaerys and Lucerys. Alicent stopped walking as soon as she saw them. Aemond and Aegon went to see what had seemingly paralyzed their mother and they too saw who had caused it.

"What the hell are you two bastards doing here!?" Aemond blurted out. The Velaryon Brothers did not say anything to their half-uncle, but they stared back at him with fury.

"Do not talk to your kin that way nephew…"

The Hightower's quickly rounded the throne to find none other than Prince Daemon Targaryen sitting upon the bladed seat of the Iron Throne. He looked down upon his sister-in-law and nephews as they gazed up at him in shock. Dressed in somewhat simple clothes, Daemon nonetheless looked imposing as he sat on the Iron Throne whilst holding his beloved sword Dark Sister in his right hand, the blade's tip firmly planted into the melted iron top of the sharp stairs leading up to its occupant.

"Good morning my subjects." Daemon said leisurely with a smug smile.

"What in the name of the Seven are you doing up there Daemon?!" Ser Otto shouted, "Where is the king? Why are you all here? What is going on!?"

Daemon gave his brother's Hand a smug smile, which angered Otto even further. "In the order of your questions Ser Hightower: King Viserys Targaryen the First of His Name, my brother, is dead. He died last night in his sleep. We were summoned by the Blacks to make sure that your daughter and grandsons do not try to disobey my brother's wishes to have Rhaenyra crowned as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Do you understand this better now?"

A pall of silence permeated the entire throne room as the Hightower's took in the news. Alicent finally spoke, her words shaking with disbelief.

"My husband… is dead?"

"Yes."

Upon hearing the shocking news of the king's passing, Daeron bowed his head and began to weep. His older sister embraced her youngest brother and she held him as they both wept for their deceased father. The newly widowed Alicent was the first to recover her voice and it was pregnant with fury.

"This is an outrage Daemon! Aegon, my Aegon, is the rightful heir to the throne, not that spoiled brat! Rhaenyra doesn't deserve the mantle of being Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and you only want to protect her claim because you desire to be her king consort. That's why you married her in the first place. Say it aloud so that everyone can hear you!"

Daemon only sneered at Alicent. He leaned over his lap as he began to speak again.

"I do want to be king, but I also legitimately love my niece and the two sons she has given me along with the third child that we will be having by the next moon. But in my personal opinion, I think that forcing a man to be a king when he doesn't want to is just as wrong as marrying somebody for personal gain."

Alicent furthered her brow with angry confusion.

"What do you mean by "force" Daemon?" she snarled. The queen's former brother-in-law smiled slyly.

"Thanks to Misery ***** , I have spies all over King's Landing. The brothels here teem with valuable information about your eldest son. The whores that Aegon sees have much to tell about him. One of the most interesting things that these women remember from their pillow talk with him is that he has stated multiple times on how reluctant he is about becoming king."

Alicent turned to her son with a look of disbelief. Besides his mother's look, the gazes of his brothers, sister-wife, grandfather and Ser Cole were all on him. The discomfort he felt grew when he saw that more courtiers had come into the throne room. The newcomers were mostly affiliated with the Greens and they stared at Daemon with incredulity while the Blacks looked upon the spectacle with pride. Aegon bowed his head as if he were trying to submerge himself into his own thoughts in order to be protected from the silent criticism of his family and allies.

"Is this true Aegon?" Alicent asked. Aegon was surprised by the gentle tone of his mother's voice. He lifted his head to face her gaze, shame burning in his soul.

"Yes… it is mother. I do not want to be king."

"Why not?" Alicent asked, her gentle tone now dripping with anguish.

"Because all my life, you have told me that the crown was mine. Every time you brought that up with father, you two argued and argued. I started to hate the crown and the Iron Throne because of all the strife it had caused to your marriage. If it was meant to be mine, then why would my own father contest it so much in favor of Rhaenyra? I just want all this fighting to end.

Let Rhaenyra have her crown. Father has been teaching her since she could walk on how to rule the Seven Kingdoms. I can barely pay attention during small council meetings but Rhaenyra can no matter how bored she gets. All this responsibility, the court intrigue and dealing with the fakery of these two-faced courtiers does not hold my interest at all. My half-sister can deal with them, I just want to be left alone…"

Alicent became lachrymose as she listened to her son. She felt horrible but she still wanted to try and convince her son to keep the crown and to fight for his claim.

"Aegon my love…" she said softly and she gently held his left cheek. "If you let Rhaenyra take the throne, she will be unmerciful towards us. She will try to eliminate those who will get in the way of her children's succession. She will execute the twins and Maelor…"

Aegon's eyes darkened at the thought of his children being killed. His uncle's voice boomed through the throne room, his tone rife with disbelief and frustration.

"By the Seven Alicent do not be so dramatic! If Rhaenyra wanted your grandchildren dead, she would have had it done years ago. Seven hells, she probably could have had all of you killed, save Helaena, as well but she hasn't. Just let the lad do what he wants." Daemon looked towards his oldest nephew. "Look at me Aegon, submit the crown and no harm shall come to you or your family. You have my word."

Aegon looked weakly towards his uncle when his mother pulled him aside.

"No, don't my son! He's lying! You know how your uncle schemes, you know how untrustworthy he is. Please use reason!"

"Aegon," Daemon's voice called out over the morning light. "What are you, a man or a boy? Think for yourself for once. Stop relying on your mother to handle all your decisions for you."

"Aegon listen to me!" Alicent pleaded.

"Boy, don't listen to your uncle." Otto urged his grandson. "He is like a viper, once your guard is down, he will strike. Don't do this!"

"Aegon keep the crown!" his younger brother Aemond said, "We can't have that bitch rule the Seven Kingdoms…"

"My liege," Ser Cole pleaded, "preserve your claim. Submitting your right to Daemon will unravel everything your mother and grandfather have planned for you. Please honor their efforts…"

"Aegon please, think of what would happen to our children when Rhaenyra ascends to the throne…" Helaena begged.

"Aegon…" a teary eyed Daeron said as he watched his family trying to convince his oldest brother to stay loyal to his birthright. The voices all became a blur of noise in Aegon's ears and he wished for it to stop. He wanted this battle to end. He made up his mind.

"Enough!" he shouted, silencing the voices. Without another word to his family, the prince moved out of the circle that they had formed around him. He walked towards the stairs leading up to the Iron Throne. With the whole court watching, Aegon walked up the steps towards his uncle. His footsteps felt heavy as they landed on the welded iron blades and the prince could feel the shock and growing disappointment of the gathered crowd of Greens.

When he was close enough to his uncle, Aegon and Daemon simply stared at each other. Silently, Aegon removed the Conqueror's crown from his head. It was a band forged from Valyrian Steel and it was studded with thick, square cut rubies and it was quite heavy. The removal of his crown by Aegon's own hands stunned the entire court. While the Greens and Hightower's watched with soul-crushing disbelief, the Blacks and Rhaenyra's family watched with great satisfaction as their way was soon to be had.

After removing the heavy object from his head, Aegon handed it to his uncle. Daemon propped Dark Sister against an armrest so he could take the crown with both hands. After looking it over, Daemon then put it on his head and he sat back a little, being careful not to stick himself in the back by the protruding tips of the swords behind him. The silence was broken by an old yet strong and proud voice.

"Lords and ladies of the Seven Kingdoms, Daemon Targaryen. King Consort of Rhaenyra Targaryen, the First of Her Name! May their reign be long and prosperous!"

The voice belonged to Lord Lyman Beesbury. Wesley and Ser Steffon both chanted the same thing, and soon, all of the Blacks at court followed suit. The throne room shook with the weight and power of those words. Daemon smiled proudly to himself. At long last, his dream had come true. He was king, a king consort, but still a monarch.

No longer would he be remembered as the rebellious prince who lived in the shadow of his older brother. He would be remembered as the king and companion of the first reigning queen of Westeros. He watched from his perch how Alicent had collapsed onto her knees with grief as her two younger sons and daughter tried to support her. He relished how his long time adversary Ser Otto Hightower stared off into space with dark eyes and how Ser Cole looked away from the Iron Throne, undoubtedly feeling immense shame for not being able to protect his prince's claim from the princess he once loved. All the schemes that the Greens had planned up to this point had gone up in smoke and it was all because of the one person that they were trying to set up to be king.

Speaking of which, Daemon's oldest nephew looked unseeingly ahead. Defeat and darkness filled his purple eyes. Daemon took pity on his nephew and he told him to descend, which Aegon slowly did. The new king consort's cousin and stepsons looked up to Daemon with pride, his smile widened. Oh yes, it did indeed felt so good to be king…

* * *

 _ ***= The nickname of Daemon's former mistress Mysaria.**_

 _ **And so Viserys's final wish has been granted. What do you guys think so far? The next chapter will cover Rhaenyra's coronation and the festivities that will follow suit. I hope to get the next chapter up soon. I also hope to update my other stories as well, but I have been occupied lately but we will see. Anyway, this was the longest chapter I think I have ever written so far. Thank you for reading and**_ _ **please review! :)**_


	4. Chapter 3: The First of Her Name

_**Scratch what I said about the last chapter. This one is the longest one I have ever written! I promise that I will make them smaller. Without further adieu, here is Rhaenyra's coronation. Enjoy! :)**_

 _ **PS: I am amazed how many views my story has gotten so far and it has only been two days since I published it! :)**_

 _ **Author's Note:**_ _ **Lewd language and mentions of blood and gore ahead. All the good stuff!**_

* * *

At Dragonstone, a still bedridden Rhaenyra waited with great anticipation for the letter from King's Landing that would confirm the securement of her birthright. At midday, the long awaited raven finally flew in through a castle window and Maester Gerardys delivered the note to the princess. With the maester, her stepdaughters, three younger sons and former father-in-law present, Rhaenyra read the contents of the letter aloud for all of them to hear.

 _"Darling,_

 _It is with great pleasure that I announce that the Iron Throne has been secured for you. Your half-brother Aegon gave up his crown without a fight and everyone has cheered me on as their new king consort and you as their queen. Alicent collapsed when she saw her son give me his crown. Her defeat has been most satisfactory. The Greens have broken up and several of them have already renounced their pledges to Aegon and now wish to swear oaths to you when you are crowned next month._

 _Alicent and the rest of her family have been placed under house arrest. Their imprisonment has been easy to maintain since none of them want to leave their rooms due to the humiliation they feel. Only Otto is exempt so he can reluctantly perform his duties as Hand. Rhaenys and I have been handling the details of your coronation. We have also been trying to find candidates for your new small council since most of the members from your father's council are still steadfastly loyal to Aegon and they have resigned from their posts. Thankfully we were able to find suitable replacements for them, courtesy of Jace and Luke._

 _The only sad news that I have to share with you is that your father is due to be cremated soon and you won't be able to attend. I am sorry. Rest assured however, your father should be resting easier now in the heavens with your mother and brothers knowing that you are well on your to becoming queen. I hope you and our unborn child are doing well. I send my best to you, our children, Jofferey, Rhaena and Baela along with Corlys._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Daemon"_

Rhaenyra cried as she read the letter. The thought of her father being with her beloved mother and her two brothers in the afterlife made the princess, soon to be queen, very happy. Now all that had to be done was to wait for the child in her womb to be born. The month went by slowly. During that time, numerous ravens bearing letters discussing the details of the princess's coronation, the subsequent celebrations and feasting, along with ships bearing the finest dressmakers that Rhaenys had summoned visited Dragonstone.

The dressmakers showed Rhaenyra fabric samples and discussed the dress's appearance. The weight of the preparations for the coronation began to weigh on Rhaenyra and Maester Gerardys suggested that she should let Corlys, who had been assisting his former daughter-in-law, shoulder the rest of her responsibilities but the princess refused.

"Gerardys, I am soon to be crowned Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. If I cannot work through this trial, how will the lords and smallfolk view me? I must persevere. And besides, you know I have been under duress during my other pregnancies as well. My child will be fine."

And Rhaenyra's words would soon prove to be true. The eleventh day of the fourth month was a very warm day and that afternoon, the queen's water broke. A half-hour after being laid upon her bed, Rhaenyra gave birth to her sixth child and its cries rang out throughout the halls of Dragonstone.

"It's a girl your majesty! A healthy little girl…" the midwife said as she held the newborn princess in her hands. Rhaenyra, although exhausted, smiled broadly upon hearing the news. After five sons, she finally had a daughter. Her prayers had been answered at last. Princess Visenya had a hearty cry but she calmed down as the midwife gently cleaned the fluids of her mother's womb off of her tiny body.

As soon as the midwife wrapped Visenya in swaddling clothes, she handed the newborn princess to Gerardys and he in turn gave the child to her excited mother. Rhaenyra gave her daughter a kiss on her soft forehead and she embraced her dearly. Visenya had fine silver hair with scintillations of gold and lavender purple eyes, all pure Targaryen features. After the future queen was cleaned up and propped against her pillow, the rest of her family was ushered in to see their newest family member. Aegon and Viserys were the first to see their younger sister.

They both admired her and the brothers took turns holding Visenya. Traditionally, a Targaryen brother and sister were to be wed to each other when the time came in order to preserve the the blood of Valyria into the next generation and so forth. Since Visenya had a half-brother and two blood brothers that were much older than her, she was not to be wed to them. Rhaenyra didn't want to worry about finding spouses for her other children just yet. First she had to get crowned and then settle in as queen and right now she just wanted to cherish the moment of her only daughter's birth.

Rhaena and Baela were in awe of their newest half-sibling. The two young ladies fawned over the baby and kept saying how pretty she was. The twins were thinking of the time when they would give birth to their children and when their family would gather into their rooms and hold their newborns. Rhaenyra had said that she was going to wait a few more months before the double wedding could be held so she could get used to being queen first. Just yesterday, she announced that the wedding was to be held on the last day of the year so that the next day could symbolize a new beginning for the newlywed couples.

Due to giving birth, Maester Gerardys instructed Rhaenyra to rest for one week before she could attend her coronation. A raven was dispatched to King's Landing for Daemon to tell him about Visenya's birth and Rhaenyra's seven day bed rest. He greeted the news of his third born daughter's birth jovially, as did Rhaenys, Jace, and Luke. They all wanted to fly over to Dragonstone with their dragons to see her, however, their duties to ensuring the coronation's success kept them bound to the Red Keep. They also had to make sure that the remaining Greens weren't machinating on sabotage or worse, assassination.

After the week had passed, Rhaenyra was finally well enough to be crowned. Early in the morning on the day of her coronation, Rhaenyra took a warm bath drawn by her handmaidens, had her hair anointed with her favorite lotus scented perfume from Lys and then braided. With the help of her maidservants, she was dressed into her gown. It was a resplendent sight to behold: the bodice was made of rich maroon velvet with intricate black Myrish lace that lined the center of the garment and it had six diamond buttons held in with gold bases to represent Rhaenyra being the sixth ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. The skirt of the dress, which was made of sable silk, was parted in the middle to reveal a red underskirt that was hemmed with more black lace, while the puffed shoulder pieces where made of black silk with red slashes and the sleeves were maroon in color with gold thread bands ringing the elbows and the ends of the sleeves were decorated with more black lace as well.

When her servants pinned a crimson ermine trimmed cape over her shoulders with two elegant solid gold brooches decorated with the royal sigil; a three headed dragon, Rhaenyra, not even properly crowned yet, looked every bit like a queen. After she was dressed, Rhaenyra mounted her beloved dragon Syrax. The yellow dragon let out a grunt and she unfolded her wings and she took to the skies with her mistress. Following the queen were three more dragons; Moondancer, Tyraxes, and Stormcloud, the young mount of Aegon the Younger who was named so due to his dark grey coloring. Below the dragons was a ship containing the rest of Rhaenyra's family as they followed her to King's Landing and towards the realization of a long awaited destiny.

After a long flight towards King's Landing, and when the Red Keep came into view upon the horizon, Rhaenyra's heart began to beat faster. She felt nervous, but she knew she could do this. Her father undoubtedly felt the same way when he was crowned king all of those years ago too.

"Be still my beating heart. Be still…" Rhaenyra chanted over and over quietly to herself. She removed one hand from Syrax's reigns and she began to turn the ring on her left index finger. Turning the rings on her fingers was a compulsive behavior Rhaenyra did whenever she was anxious. Her father had had the same nervous compulsion as well. She couldn't really remember her father's coronation but she did recollect on seeing him turning the rings on his fingers like waterwheels as the hour of the ceremony approached.

As her entourage got closer to Blackwater Bay, Rhaenyra heard a loud din of noise coming from the city. She focused her gaze upon the horizon and she realized that the noise was coming from the massive crowd that was swamping the port. The smallfolk were cheering for her and they shouted her name with glee. Rhaenyra felt a large smile form on her face as she listened to the joy the commoners had for her ascension. From her position in the sky, Rhaenyra could see the ship holding her family anchor off at the dock with a cortege of castle guards waiting for them.

Seeing that her family was being taken care of, Rhaenyra flew her dragon towards the mighty spires of the Red Keep. After circling once around the castle for effect, Rhaenyra guided Syrax towards the main courtyard to land. As soon Syrax landed, Rhaenyra's husband came over to greet his wife and to help her dismount. After sharing an embrace and kiss, Rhaenyra looked over her husband's raiment's. Just like Rhaenyra, Daemon was dressed to impress in the colors of their house. He wore an exquisite long-sleeved tunic that was the color of a moonless sky with crimson bordering on the ends of his sleeves, collar and hems and he also wore black trousers and shoes.

Around his neck, uncharacteristic of him, was a large gold necklace. It was made up of squares of solid gold that were inlaid with rubies and at its center was a large medallion bearing Rhaenyra's personal heraldry; a shield quartered with the sigils of Houses Arryn, Velaryon and Targaryen, the latter which was used twice. Each sigil was inlaid with semi-precious stones and mother-of-pearl; lapis-lazuli and pearl for the Arryn's, chrysoprase and pearl for the Velaryon's, and carnelian and black onyx for the Targaryen's. Rhaenyra was in awe with this piece of jewelry as she was perplexed by it.

"Who gave you this?" she asked as she held the Black Medallion in her hand.

"Wesley. He had it commissioned for me. He said that this would make me look more regal in appearance."

Daemon held the heavy bauble between his right thumb and index finger and he held it up to give it an appraising look.

"It certainly does," Rhaenyra said.

She was surprised that Wesley had given her uncle-husband such an opulent piece of jewellery. It was well-known that the two had never seen eye to eye, and that Wesley had frequently reported on the prince's behavior to his brother. During the mysterious scandal regarding Rhaenyra's "lessons" with her uncle, Wesley had been just as angry as the king was. Wesley treated Rhaenyra as if she was his own daughter and he had taken the scandal very hard and wished for Daemon to be punished severely. But for now, it appeared that Wesley was willing to overlook Daemon's past actions for the sake of Rhaenyra.

A corner of Daemon's mouth lifted as he gave his niece-wife a small smile of appreciation. He then turned slightly around and held out the crook of his left elbow to Rhaenyra.

"Shall we go to the entrance courtyard and wait for the rest to arrive my queen?"

Rhaenyra smiled upon hearing that and she gladly intertwined her arm with Daemon's. Arm in arm, the two walked towards the courtyard. With the boisterous cheering of the citizens of King's Landing heralding the royal procession outside the castle walls and the majestic Red Keep towering over her and her husband, anxiety once again crept up into Rhaenyra's mind and she began fiddling with her rings once more. Daemon took note of his niece's nervous tic and he used his right hand to gently pat hers, giving her some comfort as they reached the entrance courtyard

Waiting outside of the massive double doors leading towards the main entrance into the Red Keep was a familiar face, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen. Just like her cousins, Rhaenys was dressed in red and black as well, although her dress was not as luxurious and regal as Rhaenyra's was and she had silver accents instead of gold. Rhaenys's hair flowed freely over her back and she wore a simple band of solid silver on her head. Upon seeing the soon-to-be queen and her king consort, Rhaenys smiled and she walked over to greet them. She took her former daughter-in-law's hands into hers and she held them firmly.

"Are you ready my dear?" Rhaenys asked gently, her excitement bubbling through her composure. Rhaenyra nodded.

"Yes I am cousin Rhaenys. Just a little nervous…"

"Your father was just the same way during his coronation. How much do you remember about the ceremony?"

Rhaenyra furrowed her brow as she tried to remember.

"I remember my father being anointed by the High Septon, ascending the stairs leading up to the Iron Throne, and then my mother announcing father's title for the entire court to hear."

"Yes," Rhaenys nodded, "You will soon be performing those rituals. It will be over quick, I promise. I remember Viserys's coronation being quick myself. You don't need to worry about a thing my dear…"

Rhaenys gently squeezed her cousin's left arm to reassure her and Rhaenyra gently patted her hand and smiled. The three stood about in silence for several minutes before Ser Steffon Darklyn and two other members of the Kingsguard, all three bedecked from head to toe in immaculate white armor, came from the main gate of the Keep.

"Your majesty," Ser Steffon announced, "the procession has arrived."

Rhaenyra, Daemon and Rhaenys lit up when they heard that. Rhaenyra's two oldest sons, who were not present at the moment, had been down at the city docks to greet their grandfather, younger brother, half-siblings and fiancées as they disembarked from their ship. They then rode with their family on horseback through the streets in the royal procession. Little week old Visenya was carried on a litter hoisted upon the shoulders of four castle guards as her wet nurse followed behind on foot. Ser Steffon and his men stepped aside to allow the queen's family to enter the gate.

The first to arrive were Jacaerys and Lucerys with their stepsisters/fiancées, Baela and Rhaena. Jace was wearing a vest woven with cloth of gold over a fine black undershirt, and his trousers and shoes matched his shirt in color. Luke wore a vest made of cloth of silver with a blue undershirt, trousers and shoes. Both had jeweled daggers on their belts. Baela and Rhaena's dresses were magnificent; the former's was a dark blue dress with a silver, white, and black sash belt and brocade on the hems that were decorated with tiny pearls, long white sleeves cascaded beneath the shorter sleeves of the main dress and they both ended at Baela's middle fingers where they were attached to gold rings.

Rhaena's dress was cyan and white with gold, white and black brocade with pearls. Just like her twin, the sleeves on Rhaena's dress ended at both her middle fingers. Unlike her sister's raiment, Rhaena's dress was open on the chest and the fine white fabric was covered with crisscrossed red strings that held her bodice in place. To differentiate from Baela further, Rhaena wore her silver-gold hair in a braided bun whilst Baela let her hair flow freely. The couples were a sight to behold as they rode in.

Soon Jofferey followed his older brothers in, dressed in red and gold and trailing after him were Aegon and Viserys, accompanied by Maester Gerardys, who were clothed in red and black. As they arrived, Jacaerys and Lucerys dismounted their horses so that they could be embraced by their mother as she walked towards them with open arms.

"My sons…" Rhaenyra said as she embraced her two eldest children warmly, giving them both kisses on their cheeks, much to the embarrassment of Jace and Luke. The princes' future wives and younger brothers did their best to stifle their giggles at the sight of their red faces. As Daemon went to greet his children and stepsons, he noticed his wife's attention rapt on the litter that was being carried. A young woman was slender with wavy light brown hair and she wore nice but simple clothes walked over towards the litter after it had been set down. She gently scooped up Visenya, who was wrapped in immaculate white blankets, and her wet nurse quietly walked over to the queen.

Rhaenyra gently took her daughter from her wet nurse's arms and held her. Visenya was wide awake and she looked around her new surroundings fearfully and she let out small whimper. She appeared to have cried earlier, no doubt having been awoken by the cheering crowds. Rhaenyra rocked her daughter gently in her arms and the babe began to calm down. As Visenya settled, Rhaenyra turned around to show her husband his new child.

"Daemon," Rhaenyra said proudly, "behold our daughter, Princess Visenya Targaryen."

Daemon walked over to his wife to get a better look at his newborn daughter. When her father's shadow washed over her, Visenya looked up to see him for the first time. The little princess held her gaze upon her father as her mother gently transferred her into Daemon's arms. Daemon held his newborn child with gusto, bearing a proud smile upon his face.

"She's certainly a lovely babe. I'm sure she's going to grow up to be a beautiful woman like her mother." Daemon said and he looked up towards his niece. "She reminds me of when you were a babe yourself my darling."

Rhaenyra smiled warmly upon that remark. A young boy then emerged from the castle. As he approached the group it became apparent that the child was a religious acolyte; wearing white vestments that bore the rainbow colored and seven pointed star that represented the Faith of Seven, the dominant religion of the Seven Kingdoms. His fair blonde hair had been meticulously groomed, with a slight curl just below each ear. Upon approaching the royal retinue, the boy bowed respectively to the queen and he spoke with a clear voice.

"Your royal highness, the time of your coronation has come. It is time to form the procession."

Rhaenyra stiffened and her smile faded away. The time had finally come at last, but it felt too soon. Rhaenyra had wanted to spend some more time with her family before she was crowned. But nothing could be done about that now. Daemon gently handed Visenya back to her wet nurse and everyone took up their positions. The acolyte was to lead the procession into the Red Keep followed by Rhaenyra and Daemon.

Ser Steffon and the head of the Castle Guards were to flank Rhaenyra and Daemon while the rest of the White Cloaks were to surround the rest of the royal family. Following Rhaenyra were Jace and Baela, Luke and Rhaena, Jofferey, Aegon and Viserys and Visenya and her wet nurse. After the procession had been organized, the acolyte led the group inside. The massive double doors leading into the throne room loomed over the group like a giant and the procession mentally steeled themselves for what was to come. Rhaenyra straightened herself, stretched her neck and made herself appear more regal in order to hide her nervousness.

A cacophony of voices echoed out of the doors. The throne room sounded like it was full to capacity judging by the volume of the voices and it reminded Rhaenyra of a beehive with the bees buzzing about. In front of the double doors was the High Septon. Wearing simple a simple white robe made of course wool, the old man acknowledged his future queen with a slight bow. In his weathered hands was a large golden incense burner held by a chain.

The High Septon gestured towards the acolyte to come to him. Obeying him, the boy approached the septon and the old man pointed the lad towards his incense burner. The boy then procured some flint and tinder from a satchel attached to his belt and he lit the holy man's burner. As the sweet scented smoke began to waft out from its ornate receptacle, the boy then silently went towards a banner bearing the seven pointed star that was resting against the wall. He took his place before the king and queen and he was soon joined by another boy holding a banner bearing the sigil of House Targaryen.

The High Septon positioned himself in front of the whole procession and he gave a command with a deep, ancient voice.

"Open the doors…"

The castle guards did as told and slowly the doors were opened. The crowd within the throne room immediately quieted down and trumpets were sounded. The coronation was beginning at last. The High Septon walked in, moving the burner right to left, spewing evanescent blue clouds of frankincense into the air, and the procession followed him in slowly. It was a sight to behold.

Nobles from every corner of the Seven Kingdoms, minus a few from the Reach, were present. Men, women and children in resplendent and ornate clothes watched as their future queen and her family entered the throne room. The Velaryon brothers, Baela and Rhaena and Aegon and Viserys were in awe of the crowd. They had never seen so many people gathered into one place before, even with the great number of courtiers that usually crowded the room during their grandfather's reign. The pressure of being proper and dignified weighed down on the family, and Baela and Rhaena tightened their grips on their fiancé's arms while their younger half-brothers stayed close to Jofferey and looked ahead, trying not look flustered.

Rhaenyra's heart rate quickened and she felt as if an invisible puppeteer was now guiding her movements. The Iron Throne, the seat of five kings ever since Aegon's Conquest one hundred and twenty-nine years ago, was in her sight and now, it would soon hold it's sixth (and first female) occupant. As they got closer to the throne, the family and Queensguard fanned out and they grouped themselves by each side of the throne. Only Rhaenyra, Daemon and the High Septon and altar boys were left as the reached the first step of the Iron Throne. Three more altar boys awaited the Septon's arrival and they held the key components of the coronation.

Two of the boys held cushions, one red and the other black; both lined with frilled red-gold thread and tassels that held the crowns for Rhaenyra and Daemon. The other boy held a small golden bowl inlaid with seven different colored gemstones was covered with a lid that was topped with a seven-pointed star shaped pinion; clearly the vessel that held sacred oil used for anointing. The High Septon stopped swinging the burner about and he handed it to an altar boy who was standing nearby. When he turned around to face Rhaenyra and Daemon, the couple stopped walking and they released each other and they each knelt on one knee on the floor with their heads bowed. The High Septon then gestured to the boys with the crowns and oil to come forward.

The altar boy holding the oil removed the lid and the septon gingerly dipped his fingers into it. He then brought his moistened fingers towards Rhaenyra's face and he gently touched her forehead.

"The Father." The Septon announced, his voice booming over the now silent throne room like a war horn sounding the call to battle. He then made six more marks on Rhaenyra's forehead and each time he announced the name of the deity he was honoring.

"The Mother"

"The Warrior"

"The Maiden"

"The Smith"

"The Crone"

"The Stranger"

After he was done, the septon gently picked up Rhaenyra's crown from its scarlet cushion. It was a band of solid gold that was studded with seven different colored gemstones that represented the Faith of Seven inlaid in oval settings; the center jewel being a diamond – for the Father, to it's right was a yellow beryl for the Mother, an emerald for the Maiden, and a topaz for the Crone; to the left of the diamond was a ruby for the Warrior, a sapphire for the Smith, and an amethyst for the Stranger. It had been the crown of Jaehaerys Targaryen the First of His Name and after him, his grandson Viserys the First of His Name also. Rhaenyra felt extremely honored that she was to be crowned with the headdress of her father and great-grandfather. As the Septon held the crown over Rhaenyra's head, he spoke aloud for all to hear.

"Anointed by the Seven above, I hereby crown thee, Rhaenyra Targaryen, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms."

The old man then placed the crown upon Rhaenyra's head. Her scalp tingled with excitement as she felt the cold, uncomfortable crown rest on her silver-gold hair. Ever since she was a child, Rhaenyra had wandered what it had felt like to wear her father's crown. She knew that it would be uncomfortable but the queen held some hope that it wouldn't be as heavy as it was. After crowning her, the High Septon then turned his attention to Daemon; he anointed him with holy oil seven times, calling out the names of the Seven and formerly crowned him with the Conqueror's crown.

"Anointed by the Seven above, I hereby crown thee, Daemon Targaryen, King Consort of the Seven Kingdoms."

The old man backed away from the new queen and king.

"You may now rise."

Rhaenyra and Daemon slowly stood up. Rhaenyra's gaze trailed up the bladed steps to the Iron Throne itself. Here it was, the apex of her coronation, her sitting on the Iron Throne before her family and the gathered lords and ladies of the realm.

"Your highness," the High Septon spoke, "you may now ascend the steps to the Iron Throne."

Rhaenyra made her way towards the Iron Throne. One of could have heard a pin drop due to the overwhelming silence as everyone who was present raptly watched as their new queen ascended the Iron Throne. Upon reaching the throne itself, Rhaenyra pushed her ermine cape aside to give her feet room to turn around, and to create a dramatic effect, and she sat down on the Iron Throne. The seat was cold and Rhaenyra gently placed her hands upon the armrests, being careful not to prick her fingers or cut her palms and calves against the exposed blades. Rhaenyra also made sure not to lean too far back lest she be pierced by the blades that had been purposely bent to make sure that the monarch remained on edge, both literally and metaphorically.

" _A king should never sit easy."_ Was what Aegon the Dragon had said he designed the Iron Throne and his words rang out voicelessly in Rhaenyra's ears. Soon another voice would fill them.

"Rhaenyra of House Targaryen," Daemon sounded from below the throne, "the First of Her Name." Rhaenyra held her head high as her new title was being announced to all who were present, a smile growing her face. "Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

"All hail the queen!" Ser Darklyn cried out and the crowd repeated his words, causing the air to tremble.

"ALL HAIL THE QUEEN!"

At long last, the first reigning queen of Westeros had been crowned and a new era in the Seven Kingdom's history had begun. Victory had never felt so sweet and amazing. Cousin Rhaenys was right, the ceremony was quick. Rhaenyra savored the moment for a minute longer before deciding to descend and to begin the five days of festivities to celebrate her crowning. Her family, the clergy and Queensguard all bowed to Rhaenyra as she reached the floor.

Taking her uncle's arm into hers, Queen Rhaenyra I Targaryen led her family out of the throne room. The trumpets sounded once more and the audience in the throne room bowed to her. The walk was made in silence and when Rhaenyra and her family exited the Red Keep, criers announced her arrival. Beyond the gate was a jubilant crowd of city folk, both smallfolk and aristocrat alike, and they were all shouting her name.

"Queen Rhaenyra!"

"Rhaenyra Targaryen!"

"All hail the queen!"

Rhaenyra's smile remained on her face even after she and her husband, along with Rhaenys and Corlys entered the wheelhouse that was to escort them to the tourney grounds outside of the city. The rest of her family (except for Visenya, who was too young to attend the tourney and was to be tended to in a nursery) followed in other wheelhouses and soon they made their way through packed streets of King's Landing. Flowers were thrown before the path of the entourage as they made their way through the city.

"How do you feel now Rhaenyra?" Rhaenys asked.

"Much better now thank you." Rhaenyra said.

"You were so worried my niece," Daemon said to her, "but the coronation was not an issue at all now was it?"

"Not at all uncle, not at all." Rhaenyra said and she gave him a kiss on his cheek. Soon the procession made its way outside of the city and onto the tourney grounds. Tents were scattered throughout the area as far as the eye could see and they were decorated with beautiful patterns and vibrant colors. Pageboys and squires scrambled about to run last minute errands for their knights before the festivities started. Besides knights and their charges, entertainers from all over the realm had flocked to the settlement; acrobats, magicians, bards and even a dancing bear act were among those present for the Queen's Tourney.

Upon stopping, the royal family was escorted from their wheelhouses to their royal box at the stands by the Queensguard. Two male servants opened the curtains and the family emerged into their box. The crowds cheered as they entered and took their seats. Soon a trumpet sounded and the contestants entered the sparring grounds. Rhaenyra's two youngest sons were in awe of the pageantry of the event and the numerous banners belonging to the noble houses of the realm.

Leading the tourney's opening parade were knights from the Crownlands: Cargyll, Celtigar, Darke, Darklyn (one of House Targaryen's most powerful supporters after the Velaryon's and House Darry from the Riverlands), Hollard, Kettleblack, Manning, Massey and Stokeworth. Leading the Crownlanders was Ser Cordylion Velaryon, the cousin of the queen's first husband Ser Laenor Velaryon. Following retinue were knights from the Stormlands: Houses Bolling, Buckler, Cafferen, Connington, Dondarrion, Errol, Lonmouth, and Tarth and leading them was Lord Borros Baratheon of Storm's End. House Baratheon was the leading house of the Stormlands and Borros was a cousin to Rhaenys Targaryen. The procession continued onward and it showcased the numerous other knights from the Seven Kingdoms who were attending.

From the Vale came knights from Houses Belmore, Borrell, Corbray, Hersy, Moore, Redfort, Royce (both from Runestone and the Gates of the Moon), Waxley, and Waynwood. Leading them was Oswald Arryn, the eldest son and heir of Jeyne Arryn, and his two younger brothers. Jeyne was the head of House Arryn, being the Lady of the Eyrie due to the lack of male heirs, and the queen's second cousin. She was in attendance at the tourney with her only daughter being seated to the left of the royal box (House Velaryon family members were seated on the right of the box). Rhaenyra had cordial ties with her cousin, even though they had seldom met each other in person and they communicated mostly through letters.

Knights from the Riverlands followed the Valemen: Houses Blackwood, Bracken, Charlton, Darry (the most ardent supporters of the Targaryen's after the Darklyn's), Frey, Goodbrook, Mallister, Mooton, Piper, and Vypren. Leading them was Lord Elmo Tully. During his youth, Elmo had courted Rhaenyra when she had visited the Riverlands in 112 AC and the queen remembered him as a courteous gentleman. Surprisingly, there were knights from the Reach coming to participate in the tourney, but only three houses, Beesbury, Hunt and Tarly, and they were being led by Ser Oscar Beesbury, the man whose reputation had been gravely sullied by the queen regent's stepmother.

From the Westerlands came Houses Brax, Crakehall, Drox, Farman, Kenning, Plumm, Reyne, Tarbeck and Westerling. The retinue was lead by Ser Hugo Lannister, the legitimized half-brother of the Lord of Casterly Rock, Jason Lannister and his twin Tyland, the former Master of Ships who had resigned after Daemon claimed the throne for his niece. Even knights from the North had come to participate and the banners of Houses Stark, Umber and Mormont were present. Seeing the grey direwolf sigil of the Stark's jogged Rhaenyra's memory about a certain aspect of the Northern participants. She turned to her husband who was sitting at her left.

"Daemon, weren't the Bolton's supposed to participate in the tourney?"

The new king consort turned to his wife to answer her.

"Yes, but they withdrew from the listings earlier this month and House Umber replaced them. Didn't you read the letter I sent you?"

"Yes I did uncle but I had been receiving hundreds of them during that time regarding my coronation and the tourney. I remember that you said that there was an incident that caused the Bolton's to withdraw. What was it?"

Daemon lowered his voice so that the others wouldn't hear what he had to say and that only Rhaenyra could hear it.

"When the Bolton's were inquired as to why they were withdrawing, a raven came with the message stating that their lord had died and that his son was taking over and that's why they couldn't participate, he's trying to pick up where his father had left off."

Rhaenyra furrowed her brow as she tried to remember who had been the previous Lord of the Dreadfort and who is his heir was. House Bolton was a powerful house that was sworn to House Stark. There were so many great houses and semi-great ones to remember and the ones from the North were particularly hard to recollect on since Northmen seldom had any affairs with the South and they kept to themselves for the most part. Then she remembered.

"Wasn't the former Lord of the Dreadfort Rogelius Bolton?" Rhaenyra asked.

"Yes," Daemon said and he continued, "When the Northerners arrived just three days ago, Jace greeted them and inquired as to how the Bolton's were doing ever since the former Lord of the Dreadfort's passing. Lord Cregan said that he hasn't spoken with the new Bolton patriarch, Stesanor, ever since his father was executed."

Rhaenyra's eyes widened upon hearing that.

"Executed?" she said. "What did he do?"

"Well, from what Cregan told Jace, it all started a month ago. Stesanor's wife had given birth to twin sons last month and to celebrate the birth of his first grandchildren, Rogelius held a feast. During the festivities, a young serving girl tripped and she spilled wine on Rogelius's boots. It was an accident of course but from what Cregan said, Rogelius became absolutely livid. He slapped the girl and he dragged her down to the Dreadfort's dungeons to be punished for her supposed "transgression. "

Rhaenyra listened intently to what her uncle was saying; dread creeping into her heart as she feared as to what horrid fate the poor serving girl had suffered just for being clumsy. She had heard of the frightening reputation of the Bolton's. Since the days before Aegon's Conquest, the family was known for it's fondness for flaying people alive for any transgression whether it was major or minor. Flaying was such an ingrained family tradition that House Bolton's coat of arms bore a flayed man on a pink field surrounded by droplets of blood. To add to the already ominous heraldry, the motto of House Bolton was, "Our Knives are Sharp."

"He flayed her didn't he?" Rhaenyra said with a low voice that was edged with dread.

"He did," Daemon confirmed, "but only half of her. Rogelius had the serving girl's feet and legs flayed. Her screams were so loud that they drowned out the musicians who were performing at the feast in the great hall. She died from blood loss."

Disgust and horror overcame Rhaenyra's face and she became pale.

"How could he do that? How old was she?"

"Two and ten." Daemon replied, "and that's not the worst part of it. After her legs had been flayed, Rogelius forced the girl's terrified mother to sew him a new pair of boots from her daughter's skin to replace the ones she spilled wine on…"

Horror gave way to anger and Rhaenyra's voice rumbled with rage.

"How did Lord Stark execute Lord Bolton? Was it painful?"

"Yes it was," Daemon said. "Stark was horrified upon hearing of the girl's murder. Enraged, he took a large host to the Dreadfort and he condemned Rogelius for what he had done. As the ruler of the North, Cregan took control of the Dreadfort and he threw Rogelius into his own dungeons. A day later, Cregan had Rogelius executed via flaying and the executioners started from his feet and worked their way up.

Cregan said the bastard died screaming…"

Rhaenyra slowly nodded her head with agreement.

"Good… it's what he deserved for killing that poor child…"

The music that had been playing during the parade had stopped and a crier announced the beginning of the tourney.

"Lord and ladies, knights of the realm, we are all gathered here today to celebrate coronation of our new monarch," the crier, who was wearing Targaryen livery, turned around to face Rhaenyra. "Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, the First of Her Name."

The crowds clapped and applauded Rhaenyra. The crier continued.

"My lady, all of these gallant knights have come to participate in this glorious tourney in your honor. Would you like to welcome them?"

Rhaenyra nodded and she stood from her chair. Silence pervaded and only the whinnying of horses and the distant hissing of the family's dragons flying above in the sky could be heard. A warm wind blew through the grounds and it caused the tents and flags to flap about.

"Honorable knights and lords of the realm." Rhaenyra announced loud and clear, the disgust and horror she had felt about the story behind Rogelius Bolton's execution now gone. "It pleases me and my family immensely to see you all gathered here today. Not only do you honor House Targaryen with your presence, but you also bring honor to your houses as well. May the Warrior grace your arms and the Smith strengthen your blades, and the Maiden to bless the lucky noble lady who shall receive the lofty title of "Queen of Love and Beauty" at this tourney's conclusion."

Casting her gaze from right to left so she could see the anticipation of the vast crowds, Rhaenyra smiled. She then held out her arms as if she were a septa who was about to deliver a sermon.

"With those words, let the tourney commence!"

The crowds let out a thunderous applause and the knights dispersed so that the first two competitors for the beginning joust could take their places. Rhaenyra sat back down on her throne satisfied now that her first speech as queen, brief as it was, had been completed, she began to relax. Daemon leaned over and congratulated her on her successful speech, as did the rest of her family. Feeling proud, Rhaenyra took a golden goblet in her hand and she gestured towards a servant who was standing in the shadows of the royal box to fill it with wine from a golden ewer that was resting on the table by the queen's right. The servant quietly did as told and he filled his king consort's goblet when he asked for it too.

As Rhaenyra took her first sip, the crier announced who the first jousters would be.

"Our competitors for the first joust." The crier directed his hand to his right. A knight bearing the colors of House Darklyn rode in on a black charger. "Lord Lammert of House Darklyn." The crier then pointed to his left and a knight on a brown stallion with a black mane wearing the livery emblazoned with lapis blue, orange and black with a golden stag that had an orange bar cutting across it diagonally. "Ser Minos of House Bolling."

"An interesting set of challengers for the first round." Rhaenys said.

"Yes it is my dear." Corlys said in response. " I have heard that Ser Darklyn was quite warrior during his youth." He squinted at Ser Minos Bolling, trying to glean whatever traits would denote to the man's character. "I am not sure about Ser Bolling, but judging from the size of his armor, he is a large man even without it."

The jousters got into position and their horses prodded the dirt with their hooves as their riders steadied them.

"It sounds as if Lord Lammert has met his match." Rhaenys spoke with an air of contempt, as if she were judging the old man for biting off more than he could chew by facing off against a larger and possibly much younger opponent. Corlys came to his defense.

"I wouldn't be so sure Rhaenys. Just because Lammert is old doesn't mean he still can't win. I hear that he is Ser Steffon's maternal uncle and that he was the one who had trained him as a boy."

"I see…" Rhaenys quietly said.

"How old is he?" Jacaerys asked.

"Around my age." Corlys said briskly.

"Jousters ready?" the crier called out and he held out a small flag. The contestants both nodded. The crier then waved the flag.

"Begin!" he shouted.

The knights lowered their lances and they charged towards the other along the dividing partition. Clouds of dust trailed behind the horses as the men raced the tips of their lances towards each other. Amidst the din of cheers, the lances crashed into the left shoulders of the knights. Surprisingly, not one of the jousters were knocked of their horse, but their pauldrons were dented and the force of the blows caused the men to both drop their lances. Gasps rang out across the crowds as they witnessed the amazing spectacle and even Rhaenyra found herself gaping with her mouth open at the sight.

As the horses trotted towards the starting points, squires raced out onto the grounds to pick up their master's lances and they returned them to their owners. Both Minos and Lammert were clutching their left shoulders in pain. Thanks to their armor, their shoulders hadn't been dislocated.

"By the Seven he's still standing!" Luke exclaimed with surprise. His stepsister Rhaena had her hand against her heart as she cringed at the sight. Baela meanwhile shared her second stepbrother's look of amazement.

"You were right Corlys." Rhaenys spoke. "He is still strong."

"We shall see cousin." Daemon said as he looked over towards Ser Bolling. "It appears that Ser Minos has been riled up. Lord Darklyn may have endured this round, but let's see if he can handle rage fueled strength during this one."

Shortly after the knights had composed themselves, the crier announced the second part of the first round and wove the flag. Lammert and Minos charged at each other again. This time, a victor emerged. Ser Bolling's lance ran into Darklyn's shoulder again and the blow was delivered with more force. The blow was strong enough to knock off Lammert's left pauldron and it dismounted him from his horse.

The crowds cheered and Ser Bolling rode his horse triumphantly about the ring. A dazed Lord Lammert was helped out of the ring by his squire and a tourney laborer while his horse was being guided by another man.

"The victor: Ser Minos Bolling of the Stormlands!"

The applause grew louder and Rhaenyra thought she heard a young child shout out "Uncle Minos! Uncle Minos!" but it was soon drowned out by the cheering. Ser Minos would go on to triumph through the next four rounds, knocking his opponents down with ease. After knocking down a knight from House Umber during the final round, Minos was announced as the winner of the first day the tourney's jousting competition. Soon laborers appeared to remove the partition so that the next exciting event of the tourney could begin, the melee. But it was not going to start right away.

Ser Minos had to rest first and be examined for injuries. In the meantime, an intermission began and some entertainers arrived. Jesters wearing colorful motely came in, the bells on their unusual hats jingling. A small man who was the size of a child, with a large head and wearing yellow and red clothes, led the group. His large head identified him as the court fool Mushroom.

He had been the Red Keep's fool since Rhaenyra's childhood and she knew that Mushroom's most infamous form of entertainment was to tell salacious and scandalous tales that he had overheard from courtiers, tales Mushroom often spoke of in great detail. Thinking quickly, Rhaenyra looked over her shoulder and she called over another servant.

"Please bring me a member of my Queensguard from outside of the royal box."

The servant nodded and he went down to do as told. Rhaenyra's family looked over towards their matriarch curiously.

"Why do you need a member of the Queensguard mother?" Jacaerys asked.

Before Rhaenyra could answer her firstborn son's question, the servant returned with a Queensguard knight. Rhaenyra gestured with her fingers for the man to come over to her side. He bowed his head and he obeyed her command.

"What is your name young man?" she asked.

The knight took off his helmet, showing that he was an average and kind looking young man with dark brown hair that was matted by his helm and sweat. His brown eyes focused on Rhaenyra's purple ones as he spoke with a voice that almost betrayed his nervousness in talking to the queen.

"Ser Clothair Blackwood my lady."

"Ser Clothair, I have a task for you." Rhaenyra began and the young became stiff as he listened to his queen. "Mushroom is going to—"

Mushroom just then began telling a story about a servant who had been sporting expensive clothes and jewelry lately. Supposedly, the servant had been making frequent visits to an older noblewoman's chamber supposedly to "clean it."

"But I dare ask just which "chamber " has this servant been cleaning my lords?" Mushroom asked and hysterical laughter rang out. Rhaenyra cringed and she turned her attention back to Ser Blackwood.

"… tell stories like this and it is inappropriate for young children to hear." She then looked over to her two youngest sons. "Will you be so kind as to take my sons Aegon and Viserys out of the box until the intermission is over? A trumpet will be heard when the melee is about to begin. I want to spare them these horrid stories…"

"Of course my lady." Clothair said, "It would be an honor."

"What is wrong with Mushroom's stories mother?" Aegon asked innocently.

"You will understand when you are old enough my sweet." The queen said. "Please go with Ser Blackwood. Never stray from his sight, stay with him always alright?"

"Yes mother…" Aegon responded and his mother continued.

"And keep an eye on your brother as well. Ser Blackwood has to watch both of you but you need to help him as well Aegon."

"I understand mother."

"Good boy." Rhaenyra said and she gave her son a kiss on his forehead. Viserys walked closer to his mother.

"Can I have a kiss too mama?" he asked with his eager dark purple eyes. Rhaenyra smiled and she granted her youngest son's wish. With that, Ser Blackwood escorted the young princes out onto the fairgrounds. The grounds were pulsing with activity. Crowds of smallfolk and nobles milled about, taking in the sights of the tourney and fair, entertainers performing their acts and venders calling out to attract buyers to their wares.

Some of those venders were members of King's Landing's numerous guilds: jewelers, brewers, weavers, bakers and woodworkers. They had their guild's coat of arms emblazoned on their tents and stalls. Women from the Weaver's Guild were showing a noblewoman and her young daughter a beautiful small dress made of finely woven blue wool with dark blue and green brocade on the hems and sleeves. The girl did not look too impressed with the dress while her mother scrutinized the piece. The woman shook her head and the weavers put it away and brought out another dress made of emerald green fabric, eliciting gasps of delight from both the girl and her mother.

The Woodworker's Guild was selling elegantly carved chairs, benches, cradles and chests that had been made from pine, oak and cherry wood. There was even some furniture that claimed to have been made from ebony wood imported from Dorne. Two Gold Cloaks guarded the Jewelers Guild pavilion while the jewelers presented their magnificent brooches, cloak clasps, necklaces and rings made of gold and silver with precious and semi-precious gemstones. The Brewers Guild was handing out samples of their beer, which they claimed was made from the finest barley grains and their stall was populated mostly by smallfolk who were fond of the taste of a good brew since they could not afford wine like their richer counterparts could. While everything in the stalls caught the attention of both princes, there was one that intrigued them the most.

It was the stall belonging to the Baker's Guild. The boys could smell the mouthwatering scent of fresh baked bread and together with their bodyguard Ser Blackwood, they walked over to the stall. Honey cakes, buns; both regular and ones stuffed with currants, blackberries and blueberries, and meat pies were on display. They appeared to be fresh and Aegon and Viserys saw a baker pull out some fresh buns from a makeshift oven. The princes' stomachs growled and one of the bakers preparing dough turned over and he saw that they had customers.

When the young man saw that his customers had Valyrian features and were accompanied by a member of the Queensguard, he immediately rushed over to the counter and he brushed his hands on his apron to dust off flour.

"My lords…" the young man began and he stuttered. The other baker took notice and he quickly took over, telling the younger man to resume his duties.

"I apologize for that my lords…" the baker said. "My nephew speaks funny when he is nervous. What would you like from here? Take whatever you want."

Aegon and Viserys both thought of getting meat pies but then they thought of the fit their mother would have if they got gravy on their sleeves. Instead, the boys chose the buns that had berries baked in them; Aegon getting a currant bun and Viserys blackberry. Ser Blackwood took a plain one and when he asked for the price, the baker shook his head.

"No, no Ser. You are of the Queensguard and they are Queen Rhaenyra's sons, your bread is free."

"Nonsense," Ser Blackwood said and he gave the baker a gold dragon. "If you don't accept this as payment, then see it as a token of our gratitude for your generosity. Have a good day."

The trio walked away from the stall. Aegon and Viserys quickly devoured their buns while Clothair leisurely ate his. The buns were fresh and they were still a little warm from the oven. As Viserys licked the corners of his mouth to get some stray crumbs and pieces of blackberry, he spotted a sword swallower dressed in various shades of blue fabric downing a shortsword. Viserys became excited upon seeing the spectacle.

"Aegon and Ser Blackwood look over there!" Viserys shouted whilst pointing towards the performance. The three walked over towards the swallower. When a spectator in the crowd looked behind him and saw the two princes and their Queensguard chaperone coming towards them, he immediately spread the word of their arrival. The crowd parted to allow the three to watch the sword swallower in the front row. Some of the spectators bowed towards Aegon and Viserys while others simply walked away in shy silence.

The swallower, upon seeing the princes, gently removed the sword from his throat and he bowed to them.

"Welcome my lords and ser." He said with an Essosi accent. ". I feel immensely humbled to have the two youngest sons of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen in my audience today. This performance shall be made in your honor."

The sword swallower then gestured towards his assistant with his shortsword; a dark skinned male dwarf who was wearing dark plum purple clothes. He was standing in front of three wooden racks that held swords of various types and sizes; clearly he was the swallower's secondary draw for his act. Without being told what to do, the dwarf hobbled over and gingerly removed the blade from the performer's hand and, using a ladder, slid the blade back into its proper slot on the rack.

"Fetch me three long knives my friend. I want to give the princes a taste of my talent."

Silently, the dwarf quickly moved his ladder towards the rack that possessed the knives; he removed them and carried them to the sword swallower. The man took them from his assistant, bowing his head towards him to show his gratitude. The swallower turned to face the princes.

"My lords," he began, "I shall demonstrate to you the very first trick I created for my performance back home in Braavos, the most glorious of the Free Cities of Essos."

Taking one slender blade out of his right hand and into his left, the man then leaned his head back and opened his mouth wide. He then raised the blade until it dangled over his mouth, and very slowly, he inserted it down his throat. Aegon and Viserys watched with awe, and horror, as they witnessed the blade disappearing into the man's mouth. The blade stopped moving until only the hilt was visible. Unimpeded by one, the swallower repeated the process and he inserted a second knife, and then a third.

When all of the knives were inserted, the swallower outstretched his arms from his side and he let the blades sit in his throat for a full minute. Despite his mouth being full, a small smile tugged at the corners of the performer's mouth when he heard the gasps of surprise, and excited whispering spreading like wildfire over his audience.

"How is he able to do that without cutting his throat?" Ser Blackwood muttered. His charges meanwhile were flabbergasted by the display of immense bravery and risk taking. Deciding that it was long enough, the swallower gingerly began removing the knives from his throat one at a time. When all three knives were removed, and found to be as clean as they were before being ingested, the audience began clapping and the swallower bowed to them.

Happy about the crowd's enthusiasm for performance, the sword swallower continued on with his act. The man thrilled the audience further by gulping down a short-sword. Wanting to thrill them even further, the man performed the trick again. After the sword's hilt straddled his mouth, the swallower's assistant came to his side via ladder and began insert two long daggers under the man's teeth. Audience members grew pale upon seeing this spectacle; some became nauseous, children hid their faces in their hands, and gasps and prayers echoed over the heads of the princes.

After what felt like an eternity, the swallower then slowly reached for the handle of the short-sword. Ever so slowly, he began to gently pull it out of his throat. Aegon clenched his fists together with anxiety while his younger brother stood perfectly straight, doing his best to hide his trembling. When the sword was finally out, the swallower bit down on the daggers in his mouth. With the weapons still in his mouth, the man bowed and he held out his hand to his assistant.

Although too early, a series of claps rang out amongst the crowd. The assistant pushed his ladder towards the swallower. Climbing up the ladder, the assistant then tied a blindfold around the man's eyes. The swallower then took the daggers out his mouth. With a wide grin, the man suddenly spun around and he threw the blades at two targets that had been set-up behind him.

The strikes were both bull's-eyes, hitting the targets dead center. Cheering roared out as the swallower smugly removed his blindfold. Smiling from ear to ear, the man then turned around and bowed deeply towards his immensely awed audience. The swallower then turned to the princes.

"What did you think my lords?" he asked.

"That was amazing!" Aegon said excitedly.

"How did you do that without cutting your mouth or throat?" Viserys asked.

"It's simple, I just lean my head back to make a straight entryway from my mouth to my stomach for my swords." Explained the sword swallower, "Though the real trick is to insert the blade without cutting yourself. That takes years of practice and absolute precision."

Viserys flinched at the thought of cutting his insides. The sword swallower assistant came back with the daggers and the man ordered them to be cleaned. When the assistant was done, the swallower took the daggers back, holding them by their tips, and he presented them to the princes' with a bow.

"Take these as gifts my lord," the swallower spoke, "let them serve as mementos of my act. I have plenty more where those came from."

Aegon and Viserys gingerly grasped the handles of the daggers and took them out of the swallower's hands. The steel blades of the daggers had been polished to a mirror shine and appeared to be very sharp; their hilts were made of steel, and leather was wrapped around the handle for better gripping. Needless to say, the daggers were of great quality. The princes thanked the swallower, who gave them one last bow, and both they and their bodyguard left the venue. The trio walked a few paces more when they saw the tents belonging to some of the tourney competitors.

Tents of diverse and vibrant colors dotted the field like giant, canvas flowers and flags that waved leisurely in the wind on top of the tents denoted to which house the knight served. Aegon and Viserys were able to recognize the sigils of Houses Arryn, Baratheon, Bolling, Frey, Plumm, Tully and Royce among others amidst the sea of colors and symbols. Activity swarmed around the tents as pageboys and squires worked tirelessly by polishing armor and weapons, arming knights and performing small errands. Voices and the whinnying of horses thickened the air as the knights prepared themselves for the first melee of the tourney. The princes and Ser Blackwood took in the sights as much as they could before the trumpet sounded.

Up ahead to the left of the gate leading towards the arena, was a tent decorated in the colors of House Bolling. In front of the tent was Ser Minos Bolling. He wasn't wearing his helm and the princes saw that the man had short curly blond hair and a moustache. Minos was interacting with a group of three people, a couple and their daughter, that appeared to be his family. The woman looked to be Ser Bolling's sister since she possessed similar blonde hair like Minos that was curled in strands while her husband, even though his back was facing the princes, appeared to have silver-gold hair like the princes did.

The girl was standing between her parents. She was wearing a rose pink dress that accented her curly, fair golden hair that cascaded down her back. As if sensing their presence, the girl turned around. Upon seeing her face, Aegon froze where he stood. She was beautiful; freckles dotted her cheeks and her eyes… They were a clear lilac and they seemed to stare a hole into Aegon's soul.

The nine year old prince felt himself turn red and he had to look away so as not to embarrass himself further. His rescue came from the redolent rumbling of the trumpet announcing the beginning of the melee. Thankful beyond words, Aegon turned away as Clothair guided the boys back to the royal box via a shortcut by the tents. Rhaenyra and Daemon greeted their sons upon their return.

"Did you enjoy yourselves my sons? What did you see in the fair?" Rhaenyra asked. Aegon was thankful that Viserys spoke up first since he was still tongue-tied from seeing the girl with the bewitching eyes. His younger brother happily regaled the sights that both he and Aegon saw, especially about the sword swallower and both boys showed their parents the daggers that the Bravosi man had given them.

"These are of superb craftsmanship…" Daemon remarked as he looked over the daggers. "Mind if I show these to your brothers and sisters?"

Aegon and Viserys nodded and their parents gave the daggers to rest of the family for them to look over.

"So what else did you see?" Rhaenyra inquired. Viserys continued on and when he had finished, the queen looked over towards her fourth son. "You have been quiet this whole time my dear. Is everything alright?"

"His face is red." Daemon remarked, causing his eldest son's blush to deepen even more. "You aren't getting a fever are you?"

"It's not a fever papa." Viserys chimed in, "Aegon saw a really pretty girl at Ser Bolling's tent. That's why his face is so red."

A smile that stretched from ear to ear, creating dimples on Viserys's cheeks filled up his face. Aegon gave his brother a truly venomous glare for revealing the source of his embarrassment. Rhaenyra and Daemon exchanged amused glances with each other while the rest of the family turned to look at Aegon.

"Ooohhh… you saw a pretty girl huh?" Luke said mischievously. "What did she look like? Did she say anything to you? Did she turn red too when she saw you?"

"Luke, leave him alone…" Baela chastised her stepbrother, but it was wasted breath.

"Was she prettier than mother?" Joff teased, causing chortles to erupt from the royal box's occupants and a sideways glance from Rhaenyra to occur. Viserys took offense to the idea that anyone could be prettier than his mother.

"No, no one is more beautiful than mama!"

Rhaenyra beamed from her youngest son's comment.

"I believe I have to see this girl for myself." The queen stated while feigning seriousness. "She had to be quite remarkable to make Aegon as crimson as he is now."

Aegon wish he could just melt through the cracks of the wooden floor and disappear forever. Rhaenyra took note on her son's composure and she ceased her teasing.

"There, there Aegon." The queen consoled her son and she placed her hand on his shoulder. "We were just teasing you. We will stop now. Why don't you and your brother go take your seats? The melee is about to start."

Aegon appreciated his mother's words and he nodded silently in agreement. The two boys walked to their seats while their mother summoned a servant.

"Remind me to give three gold dragons to Ser Blackwood for escorting my sons and for buying them rolls earlier."

The servant nodded and returned to his position by the entrance. Cheering erupted as Ser Bolling and his opponent entered the ring. Judging from the black bear on a green forested field that decorated his livery and shield, the knight served House Mormont of the North. Both men looked different. Ser Bolling was tall and well built and he wielded a war axe in his right hand whilst Ser Mormont appeared to be shorter and leaner and he possessed a short-sword. The anticipation was intense.

"Begin!" the man shouted. Minos and his opponent began circling each other, looking over each other for a literal chink in their armor and working out on how they would strike it. As a gust of wind blew up clouds of dust, Ser Bolling made his move. Raising his axe above his head, the man let out a war cry and he came charging towards his smaller opponent. Undeterred, the knight stood his ground and he raised his shield up in defense.

Just as Minos's axe came down, the Mormont knight suddenly shoved his shield upwards, deflecting the strike and causing his opponent to stumble. Seeing his opportunity, the knight slashed towards Minos's stomach. Despite being stunned by the counter attack, Minos proved to have quick reflexes and he evaded the attack with surprising grace. Impressed by his opponent's cleverness, Minos chuckled darkly before letting out a roar. He came after Ser Mormont again, swinging his axe swiftly and chaotically in the air to overwhelm his opponent.

The crowds cheered and shouted encouragements to the knights they wanted to win. Minos's name was heard amidst the din along with another one, Triston. Ser Minos and Triston roared at each other as they continued their fight. Blow after blow landed on shields and blades crossed, each man hoping to best the other since their honor and reputation was at stake. Minos slammed his axe down upon the shield of Ser Triston. The blow was delivered with such force that the axe blade became stuck to the painted wood. Seeing what had happened, Ser Mormont acted quickly.

Swiftly he swung his shield away from Minos, tearing his axe from his hand. Triston then struck Minos's knees, chest and shoulders, bringing him down. The cheering soon was soon reduced to awed whispers and silence. But the silence was soon replaced by raucous cheering. Showing great sportsmanship, Ser Triston sheathed his sword and extended his hand towards his fallen opponent.

Minos accepted his opponent's hand and after he was on his feet, the two shook hands. This act increased the volume of the cheering, causing the wooden arena to actually tremble. Even the dragons took notice. Stormcloud and Moondancer flew down towards the arena to see what was going on. The audience became excited as the shadows of the two young dragons washed over them.

Aegon and Baela looked up towards the sky concerned but the queen told them to remain seated. Soon the dragons realized that there wasn't anything of interest to them and they flew back towards the Red Keep. After their departure, Ser Triston Beesbury was named the winner. He kept his title throughout the rest of the day, besting the other competitors and becoming the champion of the first day of the tourney. After the conclusion of the competition, the royal family returned to the Red Keep with their guests to partake in a celebratory feast.

The repast was a glutton's dream come true and it came in seven courses. The first course provided bread, oysters, clams, three kinds of rich soups and stews, salads made with fruit and edible flowers, and honey braised chicken and rabbit quarters. The second course had giant meat pies, lamprey pie and shrimp. The rest of the courses included a great quantity of meat and fish: venison steaks with a fire blackened bark, roasted pigeons, beef steaks wrapped with bacon, suckling pigs, and sturgeon covered with a spiced cream sauce. Various kinds of cheeses, fruits, honey and mushrooms were served, followed by desserts like cakes, pies, fruit tarts, almond milk pudding and candied nuts.

As the guests devoured their food, they quaffed down expensive wines and Tyroshi pear brandy from gold and jewel encrusted goblets. Those who were getting full nibbled on the light fare that was presented as the seventh course, hard-boiled eggs, fruit preserves and nuts. The centerpiece of the whole feast was a large sculpture made from marzipan. It was made in the likeness of the Targaryen three-headed dragon, its body was dyed with cherry juice that was the color of blood; raisins were used to make the eyes, claws made from carved almonds, and the teeth were made with cloves that had their buds stuck into the marzipan "gums" of the sculpture. It was a truly magnificent banquet.

Rhaenyra looked over the great hall with pride. All these people had come to celebrate her ascension as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. It had been a long way since the feast of 105 AC, but here she was, properly crowned and ready to rule. As she looked over the vast line of tables, Rhaenyra felt a slight pang of disappointment. Alicent and her family were not at the feast.

Wanting to share her thoughts, Rhaenyra gently bumped her elbow against Daemon's as he was cutting a juicy chunk of meat from the rabbit leg on his plate.

"Dear," the queen began, "don't you think that this feast would be more entertaining if Alicent and her Greens were here?"

Daemon was about to eat the piece of rabbit off his knife when his niece spoke. The new king raised an eyebrow towards his wife's question.

"Why would you want that Rhaenyra?"

"Just to see how they are coping with my succession to the throne."

The king's stern face soon morphed into one bearing a cruel grin.

"I believe that would be most interesting my dear." He said, "Very, very interesting…"

Both uncle and niece laughed as they pictured the expressions of the former queen and her family regarding the coronation. Their guffawing was drowned out by the surprised cries of a nobleman. Apparently after biting down on a piece of oyster meat, the man felt his molars crunch on something hard. That "hard thing" turned out to be a pearl. It was an amusing sight to see the man stand up from his chair and hold his pearl for everyone to see.

Besides the pearl incident, the feast continued on with its normal schedule. There were dances, jesters performing tricks and of course, a lot of toasting. Drunk noblemen raised their cups to their first queen regent and king consort; wishing them good health and a long and prosperous reign. One nobleman, although deep into his cups, still remembered that Rhaenyra had a week old child and he held his goblet up in the air to toast both the queen and princess.

"A toast to the queen and her newborn daughter. May her grace's reign be long and great, and may her daughter grow up to be a woman of renowned beauty like her mother."

The toast flattered Rhaenyra, as well as the fact that the man remembered that Visenya existed. Daemon took a good look at the man who had just toasted his wife and daughter. He looked familiar and then it hit him. It was Mervyn Fossoway, the boy who he had struck in the face as a child all those years ago. Daemon smirked upon this realization; it was very brave of him to be here since he was a Green.

Sensing Mervyn's attempt to kiss up to the queen, Daemon decided to knock him down a peg.

"Here to gain Queen Rhaenyra's approval Mervyn? What happened to your steadfast loyalty to Alicent or has that become too inconvenient for you?"

Mervyn glared at Daemon.

"No my lord," he said sternly, "I simply wanted to toast her grace upon the start of her reign and Princess Visenya. This has nothing to do with where my loyalties lie."

Daemon scoffed, not believing a word of what Mervyn just said.

"Did I bruise your ego again Lord Mervyn? You are called the "Bruised Apple" for more than one reason you know."

Mervyn's fingers tightened around his goblet. People looked from the king to Mervyn, anxious about the tension between King Daemon and Lord Fossoway. Rhaenyra glared at her husband.

"Daemon!" she hissed quietly. "What are you doing? Don't make a scene. You are now king, do not go around antagonizing people!"

The two men held their gazes for what felt like ages before they finally relented. Mervyn sat back down and Daemon leaned back into his chair. The feast continued on as normally as it could but not for Rhaenyra. Anger flowed through her and the two didn't speak for the rest of the feast. The first night of the coronation festivities ended around midnight, and the new queen and king retired to their beds in tired and aggravated silence.

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 _ **I will quickly go through the rest of the tourney in the next chapter and move on to more interesting parts. The characters that have been mentioned so far will become important or will have an impact on the story as it progresses, so stay tuned. Thanks for reading and please review! :)**_


	5. Chapter 4: New Era, New Problems

**_Hello! Sorry it has been awhile since I published another chapter. This one will wrap up the Coronation Tourney and will feature Rhaenyra's first official morning as Queen Regent. I will note that I made one minor mistake in the first chapter. Ser Criston Cole was the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard during Viserys I's reign not Ser Darklyn. However that can be fixed. Anyway, without further adieu, please enjoy!_**

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Rhaenyra was still angry with Daemon the next morning after the first feast. The royal guests took notice of the frigid atmosphere surrounding their new queen and king, and word of the marital friction soon spread. After their morning fast had been broken, the royal family left to return to the tourney arena for another day of entertainment and celebration. Before entering the wheelhouse, Prince Jacaerys gently took his mother aside.

"I know you are angry with Daemon mother, but his intentions were good."

"By antagonizing a possible ally Jace?" the queen snarled, "Green or not, we need to establish friendly alliances with the Reach in light of the Black Conspiracy. I need to show that I am willing to overlook their allegiance to Aegon if they swear to be loyal to me. Your stepfather's temperament may constantly put this in jeopardy!"

"I understand mother…" Jace said soothingly, "but remember who these so-called "allies" are. When they know that you have taken them into your good graces, they will take advantage of your pride and try to influence you. You may be politically aligned mother, but you are human and opportunistic boot lickers can still sway you. Daemon has your best interest at heart and last night he was trying to help you. This rift between you and Daemon will now sully your reign and be a small victory for the Greens.

What do you think mother?"

Queen Rhaenyra took in her eldest son's words. As much as she wished what Jace had said was not true, she knew it was. Her son's talent with rhetoric was astounding and the queen could not have been any more prouder of him than she was at that moment. Silently nodding with approval, Rhaenyra and Jacaerys entered their respective wheelhouses. As the royal entourage rode down towards the fairgrounds, Rhaenyra reconciled with Daemon and the rumors of marital problems between the queen and king were soon quieted when the crowds saw how warmly the two were acting towards each other in the royal box.

The tourney continued on as scheduled. Ser Gilbert Drox won the first three rounds of the joust before being dismounted by Ser Ian Tarly. Ser Tarly went on to triumph through the rest of the listings and the melee. The following three days of the tourney followed the same pattern: jousts, melees, and feasting, and new champions were named. For the third day, it was Ser Hugo Lannister, and on the fourth was a mystery knight who possessed a shield that was painted green. It was speculated that the shield's color was a sign of which royal party the knight was loyal too and some respected the man's immense bravery for showing it off in the presence of Queen Rhaenyra and King Daemon.

The knight's loyalty to the Greens was not appreciated by the monarchs, but they were impressed with his prowess. The "Green Knight" was able champion through the listings and melee with ease; clearly he was an experienced warrior. The knight's strength and agility caused an unsettling rumor to wash over the audience. The rumor being that this mystery knight was none other than Ser Criston Cole himself. If that were the case, then Rhaenyra hoped and prayed for somebody to defeat him to prevent Alicent from getting some vengeance against her stepdaughter.

On the final day of the tourney, that wish was put to the test. The Green Knight was victorious through the first four listings and he seemed to have been on his way to victory. That is, until another unknown participant appeared. Riding on a chestnut horse with a black mane was a man wearing full plate armor and bearing a shield painted entirely in black with a red stripe going down the middle of it. Tension hung over the crowd as they witnessed this new arrival who bore the colors of his queen's supporting party. Rhaenyra smirked at the sight, hoping to remember to award this man for defending her honor against the Green Knight.

Lining up against the divider, the Green and Black Knight squared off, lances ready and horses fidgeting. After what felt like an eternity, the flag was waved and the two charged towards each other. The racing hooves seemed to be in sync with the rapid heartbeats that were pulsing through the spectators as they watched. This was more than just a joust, it was a political statement. Whoever won would champion the beliefs of either the Blacks or the Greens and the victory would be written down to be remembered for all time.

The knights clashed. The tips of their lances snapped off after crashing into the shoulders of their opponent, yet, neither of them fell. Gasps were heard as the jousters retrieved new lances. Another round began and once again the knights charged towards each other. Again the lances were broken and the men remained on their saddles.

A third round yielded the same results, putting the crowd further on edge. The knights went to retrieve new lances but something came up. The Green Knight whispered something to an attendant and the young man ran up towards the crier to deliver a message. After listening, the crier turned to the Black Knight.

"Good Ser." he began. "Your opponent says that you are an exceptional jouster. However, he wishes to test your mettle in the melee. Would you like to forgo the rest of the joust and proceed to the melee?"

The Black Knight nodded and the crier announced the change. People cheered as the divider was removed, the horses escorted from the arena and as the knights took their positions across from each other. When the knights were on their feet on the arena floor, people took note of their height differences. The Green Knight was tall and looked to be a fully-grown man. The Black Knight meanwhile was a little shorter and seemed to be a young adolescent.

This contrast added more anticipation to the melee. Both men took out took out their swords and held their shields up as they prepared to attack. The Green Knight took up an offensive stance immediately while the Black Knight steadily took up a defensive one. The tension in the air was so thick that it could be cut with a knife. A din of whispering was heard from the crowds and the queen began to fiddle with her rings in anticipation of the melee's beginning.

"Begin!" the crier announced at last, his voice booming over the now quiet arena.

The Green Knight charged towards his opponent, who kept his position. Just as the Green Knight closed the distance between them with his sword held up high, the Black Knight made his move. He quickly maneuvered towards the Green Knight's right and he thrusted his sword towards his side. However, the Green Knight's charge allowed him to evade the sneak attack. Realizing what his opponent had tried to do, the Green Knight turned around and began his counter attack.

The Black Knight held up his shield and he managed to block the vicious barrage of blows that were being rained down upon him by his taller and stronger opponent. Despite the gravity of his situation, the Black Knight held his ground and he blocked each blow with his shield. Firmly planting his feet into the ground, the Black Knight stopped another blow and he held his shield in place, pushing against his opponent's weapon. The Black Knight then thrusted his sword towards the Green Knight's midsection. The attack was so quick that the Green Knight did not have time to block the strike.

The tip of the sword was dull, but the strike was delivered with enough force to cause the Green Knight to fall to his knees. For a finishing touch, the Black Knight held his sword under his opponent's chin. A deafening roar of cheering erupted from the stands, including the royal box. Rhaenyra clapped her hands while Daemon whooped at the sight of the Black Knight triumphing over the Green Knight. The Black Knight bowed towards the queen and king.

The moment, the sword was taken from the Green Knight's throat, the man leapt to his feet and with a muffled growl he tackled the Black Knight to the ground. The fallen knight then wrapped his hands around his opponent's throat and he began to strangle him. The Black Knight firmly gripped the Green Knight's forearms and he tried to pull them off but it was nigh impossible to do so. Arena attendants and some knights who had been watching the fight ran into the ring to stop the struggle that was going on. It took four men to yank the Green Knight off of the Black Knight.

Angered by this act of poor sportsmanship, people began crying out the word "shame" and it echoed throughout the arena. The queen was enraged upon seeing this. She stood up from her throne to speak.

"Remove his helm. Let us all see the face of this unmanly brute." She commanded.

An attendant removed the helm from the Green Knight's head. Even though it had been rumored, it was still a great shock to see that the rumor was true. Beads of sweat dotted the sanguine forehead of Ser Criston Cole as he tried to regain his breath. Rhaenyra furrowed her brow at the sight. She had once loved Criston with all her heart when she was still a young and shapely maid, but those days were long gone now and any love the two had once had for each other was long gone.

Cole had betrayed the queen the moment he became her stepmother's sworn shield. No more did he try to defend Rhaenyra's honor against the insults and foul monikers her half-brothers invented to slight her and would even treat her sons with contempt due to the controversy surrounding their births. And now, Ser Cole had tried to humiliate her and kill her champion when he lost. Her former beloved knight had now sunken to an even greater low than anyone could ever have imagined.

"Ser Cole…" Rhaenyra muttered bitterly. Without taking her eyes off of the fallen knight, the queen gave an order to the guards who were arriving to collect Ser Cole. "Take him to the Red Keep dungeons. Let him ruminate over his lost cause in the cold darkness of a cell." She said coldly.

Ser Cole held the queen's gaze. His face bore no reaction towards his sentence, his only expression being spitting on the ground. Green and purple eyes held each other's gazes until the former was dragged outside of the arena. The audience was now silent. People were torn over Ser Cole's punishment with some thinking that it served him right for trying to strangle the victorious Black Knight, while others thought it was too harsh since the knight was trying to defend the honor of the deposed Queen Alicent Hightower and her cause.

Taking note of the silence, Rhaenyra turned her attention towards the Black Knight and she sat back down. Despite the offered hands of help from the attendants, the knight politely declined their assistance and he got back on his own two feet. The queen felt a great source of pride upon seeing this young knight who had fought so hard to preserve her and her party's integrity. She had to know who he was.

"Black Knight." She called out. "May I humbly ask to know of your identity? I need to know so that you may be properly awarded."

The Black Knight nodded and he took off his helmet. Queen Rhaenyra gasped and her mouth dropped, as did King Daemon's, the princes and their fiancées and grandparents. Gasps also rang out all over the arena. The true identity of the Black Knight was none other than Prince Lucerys Velaryon. It was an incredible sight to behold.

That morning, Luke had told his mother and stepfather that he could not attend the tourney due to not feeling well from overeating during last night's feast. That illness was now revealed to have been a ruse so that he could defend his mother's honor against the Green Knight. To make the act even more incredible, fourteen year old Lucerys was able to defeat Ser Criston Cole. A man in his late forties who was a well-trained and melee hardened knight. People began to cheer and whoop for the prince as he stood there smiling proudly, taking in the praise he was receiving from the crowds.

A pageboy arrived bearing a crown made of deep red roses. Luke took the crown from the boy and he mounted his horse, which had been brought back to him by a caretaker, and he rode over to the royal box. Smiling broadly, Luke handed the floral crown to his fiancée Rhaena. She took it proudly into her hands and she placed the roses upon her silver-gold hair, becoming the Queen of Love and Beauty. Smallfolk and aristocrats alike cheered and applauded the sight.

And thus the Queen's Coronation Tourney of 129 AC came to an end. The next morning, as the arena and fairgrounds were continuing their dismantlement and as the noble guests returned to their homes, Rhaenyra I Targaryen began her first day as queen of the Seven Kingdoms. She awoke early that morning along with her husband, got dressed and walked to the small council chamber. Awaiting them there were eight people, seven men and one woman. Rhaenyra recognized Ser Otto Hightower, who stiffened up considerably when she and Daemon entered the chamber and he wouldn't even look at them.

Besides him, there was also the elderly Lord Lyman Beesbury, who bowed his head towards the royal couple, his long white beard touching the table. Three more familiar old faces were there as well. One belonged to Maester Gerardys, now Grandmaester Gerardys, having taken up the post after Maester Orwyle had been coerced into giving up his title, Ser Steffon Darklyn, who had replaced Ser Criston Cole as the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard (renamed the Queensguard) and the other to Corlys Velaryon. The only woman in the group was more familiar with the king consort than she was with the queen. The woman's name was Mysaria.

Hailing from Lys, Mysaria possessed long silvery-platinum hair with violet colored eyes, pale skin, and a marvelous svelte figure. She had originally been a dancer, and the lover of Daemon Targaryen, who was four years older than her. Even though the two had not been lovers for over ten years due to Daemon marrying his second wife, Mysaria and Daemon remained as friends, bonding over a shared enjoyment of partaking in the seedy underbelly of society that was found in Flea Bottom. Mysaria became Daemon's confidant and informer, using her numerous contacts in the brothels and brown shops to collect and relay information for Daemon or to perform clandestine orders for him. Because of this, Mysaria's rivals called her the "White Worm" as well as "Misery" due to her usually miserable demeanor.

Due to her history of intelligence gathering, Mysaria had been selected by Daemon to become Rhaenyra's Mistress of Whisperers. She had replaced Lord Larys "Clubfoot" Strong. He was the younger brother Ser Harwin Strong, the supposed lover of the queen and rumored true father of her three eldest sons. Larys had resigned from his position as the Master of Whisperers and had returned to his seat of Harranhal in sullen silence. Since Rhaenyra knew who these five individuals were, she did not need to be introduced to them. Corlys Velaryon had the honor of introducing the queen to these individuals.

"Good morning your grace." He began. "Allow me to introduce you to your small council." He gestured towards Lord Beesbury, Maester Gerardys and Mysaria. "You are already acquainted with these three individuals and you have been informed as to what their new titles are."

Corlys turned to a man who was standing to his left. The man was in his early forties and possessed Valyrian features; pale silvery-gold hair (like beams of sunshine through clouds) and lilac eyes. "This is Bartimos Celtigar, the Lord of Crackclaw Point and the Master of Ships." Bartimos bowed his head towards Rhaenyra. "It is an honor to meet and serve you my lady."

From what Rhaenyra had remembered from the letters she had read during her month long wait for her coronation, Bartimos had been recommended by Corlys himself. During his youth, Corlys had sailed the high seas of the world on his beloved ship the _Sea Snake_. Accompanying him on those voyages was Bartimos Celtigar's father, Ser Phineon, who was just a boy at the time. During their travels to Essos, Phineon served as Corlys's personal assistant and he learned the ropes on how to manage a ship, to navigate and what to do when exploring strange new lands and cultures. These voyages often yielded treasures of immeasurable wealth and Corlys shared some of it with Phineon as payment for his services and he was always generous with the Celtigars thereon out.

Beside Bartimos was a man with black hair that possessed just a few strands of silvery-white starting to pepper the temples. He had a well trimmed mustache that graced his upper lip and down to his chin, possessed an average build and his eyes were dark and fierce.

"Gormon Massey," Corlys announced, "Lord of Stonedance and the Master of Laws."

Gormon was known for performing tasks to the letter and rarely showing any compromise. Those qualities mirrored that of his predecessor, Jasper Wylde, the Lord of Raindance. Jasper was however far more stricter about upholding laws than Gormon and because of this, he was known as the "Ironrod." Besides the law, Jasper was also a staunch supporter of primogeniture; the tradition of noble titles and inheritances all being passed down to the eldest son of the family. Jasper saw the late Viserys' edict of having named his oldest daughter his heir as an affront to the "natural order" and he was a vehement member of the Greens.

In fact, after Daemon had secured the Iron Throne for Rhaenyra, Jasper woke up and upon being told the shocking news, marched down into the throne room. When he reached the chamber he shouted and cursed at Daemon and his stepsons, calling them usurpers. A vein was seen popping through the skin of Jasper's neck as he became more irate as he branded the king consort and princes with vicious names and accusations. As the Kingsguard dragged Jasper away to be locked in the dungeons, the enraged Master of Laws was heard shouting about how a son was meant to inherit before a daughter, never the other way around. Shortly before the coronation began, a still seething Jasper was exiled from King's Landing and he returned to his castle in the Stormlands.

It was an eclectic mix. With the introductions finished, everyone moved to sit down. However, Rhaenyra stopped them by raising up her hand.

"Wait, there is one thing I must do before we begin our first session."

Quizzical eyes gazed upon their queen. Daemon smirked as his wife turned to face her step-grandfather. Ser Otto returned his step-granddaughter's glare with his own and they just stood there with their eyes locked upon each other. Rhaenyra was the first to speak.

"Ser Otto Hightower, give me your badge."

The air became very still as the small council watched the spectacle unfold. It appeared that Queen Rhaenyra's very first act as queen was to take away Otto's title as Hand of the King. Otto's posture became even more rigid than usual and his glared flashed with indignant surprise. He curled his lips, debating whether or not to speak his mind but nothing came out. The Hand's defiance caused Rhaenyra's gaze to harden, her purple eyes becoming sharper and fiercer.

"Ser Otto, your badge." Rhaenyra said, reaffirming her authority. Still Ser Otto's reaction did not change. King Daemon came to his wife's side and Otto's eyes moved to face his old nemesis. There was much animosity between Daemon and Otto, with Daemon hating Otto for going against him at every turn during Viserys' reign and Otto loathed Daemon because there was a rumor that the latter had bedded Alicent prior to her marrying late king all those years ago.

Daemon met Otto's hateful glare with a triumphant smirk. Without taking his eyes off of his late brother's Hand, the king consort spoke.

"It appears my dear that Ser Hightower is not going cooperate. Allow me to fix that."

Daemon walked up to Otto until their faces were just and inch apart. His smirk growing into a malicious smile, Daemon, with great gusto, removed the Hand's brooch from his breast. Otto shut his eyes tightly when he felt the metal slide out of the fabric of his shirt. Daemon held his hand out in front of his wife, his palm open so she could pluck the brooch from it. After taking it from her husband, Rhaenyra turned to Otto again.

"Henceforth Ser Otto Hightower, you will no longer be Hand."

The queen then faced Corlys.

"Corlys, step forward."

The elderly man came forward as Otto took reluctant step back. Rhaenyra spoke as she placed the badge onto Corlys's shirt.

"Corlys Velaryon, Lord of High Tide, I hereby name thee as my Hand of the Queen."

Earlier, it had been decided by Daemon and Rhaenys that Corlys was to become Otto's replacement after Rhaenyra became queen. Corlys was aware of the plan and was prepared for it; he took his new title humbly and he bowed deeply to his former daughter-in-law.

"Thank you your grace. I am deeply honored that you have chosen me to be your Hand."

Clapping was heard coming from Bartimos Celtigar and soon, the other small council members followed suit. Rhaenyra smiled triumphantly to herself and she turned to face Otto, whose expression had not changed.

"You are dismissed Ser Hightower, return to your chambers."

The man nodded silently, and he proceeded to walk out of the small council chamber for the last time. Despite the animosity that existed between Otto and the Blacks, it was strange seeing him leave. Otto's tenure as Hand of the King had been long and rich with fascinating experiences. He served the Old King and then the Young King, being dismissed once and then reinstated. And now, that had all come to an end; Rhaenyra's reign held no room for a man who was so set in his ways and controlling.

After Otto's departure, the small council sat down and began their first meeting together. The very first agenda of the gathering was on what to do with Alicent, now known as the Disgraced Queen, and her family. They couldn't stay at the Red Keep forever and despite having their hopes crushed by Aegon's submission to Daemon, lords who still possessed Green sympathies could still try to fight for the claim of the Elder's two younger brothers, most likely Daeron since he was so malleable. Thankfully, the solution was very simple and Rhaenyra and Daemon had been discussing it via letters all of last month. And Rhaenyra could hardly wait to put the plan into motion.

"My husband and I have discussed the fate of the Hightower's over the course of this month," The queen began. "and we have both agreed that stripping my stepmother and her family of their titles and then exiling them back to Oldtown is for the best."

The small council members nodded their heads in agreement. Lord Beesbury was the first to speak.

"I understand your reasoning for wanting to send them away your grace. However, do you think that stripping them of their royal titles will stop them from trying exact revenge upon you?"

"I can ensure you all that any such threats will be met with steel and force." Ser Steffon stated.

"Thank you Ser Darklyn." Rhaenyra said. "I do believe however that I have the solution to prevent the Greens from doing any clandestine endeavors to try and usurp my birthright."

"What would that be your grace?" Bartimos Celtigar asked.

"My half-sister Helaena and her children." The queen said confidently. "They will remain here at the Red Keep as royal captives. To assuage Alicent, I will give my half-sister and her offspring some rights and they shall retain their royal titles. Helaena will be allowed to arrange the marriage between her twins and she can keep her retinue of ladies-in-waiting. She can also keep to her chambers if she wants to."

The small council members nodded in agreement, Grandmaester Gerardys had a question.

"What of Aegon the Elder your grace? I believe he would like to stay with his family. Are you sure you are comfortable with that?"

Rhaenyra leaned back into her chair.

"I highly doubt he would want to stay here. He is continuously reminded of his betrayal of his mother's interests and would want to get as far away from here as he can. Besides, if he wants the company of a woman, he can always bring his whore with him…"

"You mentioned that you were going to allow the princess to marry her twin son and daughter together your grace." Corlys said. "I suppose you have plans for her youngest Maelor?"

Rhaenyra nodded. "Yes, but that will be for another time. It's something that should be spoken about between mothers."

Although curious, the small council knew better than to prod their queen further about her plan and they agreed with her and decided to move on to their second most pressing issue. Corlys regarded a rolled up scroll that was lying on the table. Rhaenyra noticed a broken red wax seal that bore the symbol of the Triarchy on it. Despite his arthritic fingers, Corlys was able to unroll the parchment and he began to read its contents aloud.

" _Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen of the Seven Kingdoms,_

 _The Triarchy congratulates you on your ascension to the Iron Throne upon the passing of your father, King Viserys the First of His Name. However we are sad to say that this is where our good wishes end. Even though the War of the Stepstones had occurred over twenty years ago, the scars of the conflict caused by your king consort during his youth still haunts our people and us to this day. That is why henceforth, we, the magistrates of the Triarchy, have decided to cease all trade with the Seven Kingdoms._ "

An outcry rose amongst the small council as Corlys read the document. Daemon rolled his eyes while Rhaenyra remain focused and took in what her Hand was saying. Corlys continued reading despite the raised voices.

" _We are proud just like you your grace and we cannot in good conscience continue mercantile relations with a nation whose king had caused so much heartbreak and worry for our people._

 _Since you will obviously not annul your marriage to your uncle, it is very clear that our stance on ending trade with the Seven Kingdoms shall remain steadfast. May the Seven bless your reign with good fortune._ "

Corlys looked down below the final paragraph and saw a series of signatures that had been signed by the Triarchy's thirty-three magistrates. The Hand of the Queen put down the letter in anger as fury overtook the council again.

"This is an outrage!" Lyman snarled. "The Triarchy are acting so petulantly. Cutting off trade just because they cannot get over the War of the Stepstones… Let bygones be bygones I say."

"Lord Beesbury," Mysaria began, "I do not wish to sound rude but as the Master of Coin, should you not be aware that Westeros has traded with the Triarchy mostly in luxury goods? It will not affect our economy too much; the nobility will be unhappy but these items, looking glasses, perfumes, laces and fine wines are things we don't depend on for daily life-"

"Yes I am aware of that woman!" Lyman snapped, causing the White Worm's eyes to flash with anger. "Haven't you been listening to what I have been saying? My anger stems from the Triarchy's stubbornness to move on from the past, not because they want to cut off trade with us."

"But merchants and nobles who have interest with the Triarchy will lose much of their wealth due to this boycott. " Corlys countered. Being a seafaring veteran, Corlys had done much trade with the Triarchy himself. It had not been the smoothest of relationships however, with the Triarchy forcing merchant ships to pay very expensive tolls to enter the ports of Lys, Myr and Tyrosh. Now it seemed that House Velaryon and the great merchants of Westeros were going to lose even more money now.

"There will always be the other Free Cities councilmen." Rhaenyra said suddenly, silencing everyone in the chamber.

"Yes your grace but their exports are even more expensive due to their distance from Westeros's major port cities." Corlys said.

"Corlys," Daemon said suddenly. "Don't forget about the ties we have with Pentos thanks to our beloved late Laena's influence. Pentos despises the Triarchy and the Prince would be more than happy to increase trade with us."

"My thoughts exactly Daemon." Rhaenyra said and she stood up from her chair." Let the Triarchy stop trade with the Seven Kingdoms. We will not cater to their pride by groveling; instead we will look for alternatives." As the queen spoke she pointed her left index finger towards the table and she grabbed it with her right finger. "Pentos," she said and she held out her middle finger and grabbed it, "Lorath", and finally her ring finger, "and Braavos are the Triarchy's staunchest opponents.

They will do anything to appear superior to the Triarchy. The tariffs will be more expensive, but it will be worth it in the end. Are we all in agreement?"

Everyone looked at each other and they nodded in agreement, muttering yeses. Rhaenyra smiled and she sat back down.

"Good, I shall send for my scribes to write letters to Pentos, Lorath and Braavos to discuss the increased trade. And now, if there is not anything else," Rhaenyra said, doing her best to hide her smug grin, "it is time for me to deal with Alicent once and for all."

* * *

 _ **I hope the politics didn't bore you. Being a queen isn't easy but Rhaenyra is proving herself and showing backbone. All hail the Dragon Queen! Anyway, new chapters will may come slowly due to my other stories but I promise you that it will be worth the weight. Anyway, thanks for reading and**_ _ **please review! :)**_


	6. Chapter 5: The Disgraced Queen

_**Sorry for the long wait. Here is the next chapter of "Reign of the Dragon Queen"! This chapter will be done in the point of view of the Greens and how they cope with the aftermath of the Black Conspiracy. Enjoy!**_

* * *

The month of her family's imprisonment had been a long and excruciating one. During the first week, Alicent refused to leave her chambers, feeling too humiliated to come out and she refused to let anyone enter, not even her own kin, except for her maidservant. On the first day of her house arrest, Alicent remembered crying hysterically, pushing her face into one of her pillows so it could absorb her frustrated screams as she lamented over her son's betrayal of his birthright. After her tears had dried up, Alicent cursed her son, then her former brother-in-law and stepdaughter, but she reserved the worst curses for her late husband.

" _You treacherous bastard… you horrible, horrible traitor…"_ Snarled Alicent as she held herself in a fetal position on her bed, her face red and raw with tears and anger. _"What kind of a father are you? How could you betray your own eldest son and the rest of our family? Didn't you love us?_

 _Why did you constantly favor Rhaenyra over us? I know she was the only living child you had with your first wife, but I gave you a new family and Rhaenyra grew up to be a spoiled brat and a whore! Weak-willed and spineless is what you were Viserys._ " Alicent had chuckled bitterly at that thought. " _You were too weak to put your daughter in her place, too dedicated to the memory of Aemma Arryn._

 _If you wanted Rhaenyra to be your sole heir, then why did you remarry? Why have more children who would compete with her for the Iron Throne? You were so stupid you pathetic, cruel and cowardly FOOL!"_

Alicent soon realized that cursing her husband's memory wasn't going to change anything and she decided to lose herself into the dark quagmire her mind had become. Time ceased existing and life seemed to lose all meaning to the former queen after the Black Conspiracy's success. During those first seven days, Alicent couldn't care less about her appearance, letting her brown hair become stringy, greasy and unkempt, wearing the same white gown every day and night and hardly eating a thing. Her maidservant's duties were reduced to bringing her meals and later returning the usually untouched dishes back to the kitchens and checking on her. The girl was too scared to say anything encouraging to her mistress, fearing a verbal lashing from the queen if she tried.

During this time, Helaena and her brothers had been keeping to themselves as well. Aegon had secluded himself in his lover Ruby's quarters and had taken to having prostitutes brought in from the finest brothels from the Street of Silk to "entertain" him and to distract him from the animosity his family felt towards him. As Aegon lost himself to the pleasures of the flesh, his neglected sister-wife coped by devoting herself more to their children. She would take them outside to the castle garden to play, helped her twins with their lessons; especially with Jaehaera, who was having some trouble with reading but was making steady progress with it, and telling them stories, just about anything Helaena could do to preserve some normalcy for them. But she could only do so much.

When she told her children about what their father had done, Jaehaerys had responded with disbelief, asking why his father would do such a thing. His twin sister meanwhile, although she rarely showed any emotion, did bow her head down in what Helaena interpreted as being shame. Maelor, who was too young to understand, simply watched his sibling's reactions with curiosity from his mother's lap and embrace. Since her twins were six years old and Maelor only two, Helaena found it easy to distract them with play and bedtime stories. She only wished it was just that easy to distract her brothers from the situation as well.

Besides Aegon's whoring, Aemond's actions after the Black Conspiracy were just as destructive. He had to be escorted by guards back to his bedchamber due to being defiant towards uncle Daemon and the moment his door was closed, bedlam erupted. Furniture was heard being thrown about and smashed against the stone floor and walls, with each crash being peppered with a storm of profane words and curses. When the crashing had stopped, a guard built up the nerve to go in and he found the prince's bedchamber in shambles save for his bed. A panting and sanguine prince then glared at the guard, his good purple eye and false jeweled one creating an eerie effect, and said:

" _Get out. GET OUT!_ "

The guard quickly obeyed and resumed his post outside while Aemond pulled a cord to summon servants. When they arrived, the still simmering prince sullenly commanded them to clean up his chambers and to fetch him wine and to keep it coming. As they cleaned, the servants felt like they were walking on eggshells rather than splintered wood and broken glass and none of them dared to say a word out of fear of the one-eyed prince's temper. The wine kept Aemond quiet but it caused his anger to fester and it left him in a perpetually foul mood, making him unapproachable like his mother. Guards had to be posted at Aemond's door at all times to ensure he didn't leave his chambers to either embarrass himself or even attack his uncle, half-nephews or cousin.

Unlike his brothers, Daeron had retained his dignity and composure. He quietly mourned for his father in his chambers and kept to himself for the most part. He would come out to visit Helaena and his nephews and niece, bringing much needed joy to the children and their mother. Noting the positive effects of these interactions, Helaena and Daeron began plotting to have their mother emerge from the hermitage that her room had become. One afternoon, when the children were taking their naps, the princess and her brother made their way to their mother's bedchamber.

Upon opening her door, the smell of body odor and stale air assaulted the siblings' noses. Their mother's maidservant, who was accompanying them, was unfazed by it. The curtains were drawn and the room was dark and dimly lit, the sunlight faintly peaking through the drapes covering the veranda entrance. Alicent was lying on her bed and she didn't move when she heard the door open. She did respond when she heard more than one set of footsteps entering her chamber though.

Alicent got up to see who her visitors were. Despite the dim light, the siblings could still make out their mother's changed appearance and were greatly shocked. She looked thinner, her eyes had bags beneath them, her hair unwashed and stringy and hanging about her face, and her white dress was wrinkled from being constantly worn. It was a far cry from the woman she was just a week ago; regal, stately and imposing, but now, she looked like a frail-minded beggar woman.

"Helaena? Daeron?" Alicent said, her voice soft and nearly faint. "What a pleasant surprise…" The queen got up off from her bed and she walked towards her children. "I am so sorry that I haven't come out. It's just that…"

"It is alright mother." Helaena said, walking up towards her and embracing her. Despite her mother's smell and the feel of her unwashed skin touching hers, Helaena held Alicent as she began to weep softly into her daughter's shoulder. When they parted, the queen wiped her eyes.

"Mother," Daeron said, "you should come out. You have been in here like a caged animal for far too long."

"I know Daeron darling. I should but it's just… Everyone knows what your oldest brother has done. Our shame runs deeper than the Blackwater Rush and how can I show my face around people?"

"You can to your grandchildren mother." Helaena said. "They miss you and they want to see you."

Alicent nodded slowly with acceptance. "I suppose I should… thank you my loves. Give me a moment to get washed and dressed. I will come out when I am done. You will be in the castle garden correct?"

The maidservant was surprised by this development in her mistress's behavior. She had been too nervous to advise Alicent on going outside and it just took her daughter mentioning her grandchildren to cajole the former queen to leave her seclusion. For the first time since the Conspiracy, water touched Alicent's skin and she scrubbed her neglected flesh with tallow soap infused with daffodils and her maidservant lathered up her hands with the same soap, with some perfume added, to massage her lady's scalp to clean and scent her hair. When Alicent went to meet with her daughter and son, they were both happy to see their mother return to her former self. She wore a light green dress with white and thread of gold-bordered hems with elegant embroidery depicting fig leaves and the eponymous fruit.

The children still had not awakened from their naps, they usually slept until the second hour of the afternoon, but regardless, Alicent spent the time walking in the garden, enjoying sunlight and color, stimulus she had hidden herself from for seven long days. When the children did finally wake up, they were brought outside by a servant and upon seeing their grandmother, they squealed with delight and ran to her. Alicent embraced her grandchildren, tousling their hair and kissing the tops of their heads. Seeing their mother's happiness brought smiles to both Helaena and Daeron. The Black Conspiracy and Rhaenyra's upcoming coronation were pushed aside as Alicent busied herself with her grandmotherly duties to Jaehaerys, Jaehaera and Maelor.

On the day of her stepdaughter's coronation, Alicent had gathered her family to listen to a traveling harpist in the castle gardens. The harpist was a quiet girl of sixteen years of age with dark hair and eyes, giving her the appearance of being forlorn and meek. Accompanying the harpist was her handler/father. Unlike his quiet daughter, the man was outspoken and from the moment he entered the Red Keep gardens, he spent every breath thanking Alicent for giving his daughter the opportunity to play at the Red Keep. Besides his thankfulness, the man also went into great detail about how he and his daughter had been eking out a tenuous living through the minstrel's earnings from performing in taverns and some wealthy homes.

Having lived amongst scheming courtiers since her early tens, Alicent could detect when someone was trying to play on another's sympathy for personal gain. This man was no different and the former queen smirked when the man began passive-aggressively asking whether Alicent had any high-ranking acquaintances that would like to have his child play for them, perhaps even patron them.

"I will see." She said curtly and Alicent and her family took their places on chairs that had been moved outside for them. With the harpist sitting on a bench under a tree with her simple wooden harp resting on her lap, and her father sitting on a stool to her right, the girl began to play. Her long slender fingers caressed the catgut strings and soon, dulcet sounds began to emanate from the harp. The music was soothing and pleasant and soon the minds of the harpist's audience became enchanted by her tunes.

The music reminded Alicent of her wedding twenty-three years earlier. During the feast, numerous bards from all over the Seven Kingdoms had come to play for the king and his new queen. During the later hours of the banquet, a bard played his harp and sang a beautiful love song that made Alicent cry. The harp music also reminded the former queen about the wedding ceremony itself, when Viserys removed her wedding cape bearing the Hightower's sigil, the titular pharos that gave the family its name, and replaced it with the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen. Viserys was eleven years older than his second wife, but that meant nothing to Alicent because he was so kind and considerate to her and she could remember how both of them had been smiling and laughing throughout the day.

She even thought of Rhaenyra, who was only nine years old at the time. After the engagement of Alicent to Viserys was announced, Ser Otto arranged for his daughter to bond with the princess. The first meeting between the two was awkward at first, mainly due to Rhaenyra still trying to cope with her mother's death just a year ago and her future stepmother not having any experience with children yet. Alicent was empathetic to the girl's sorrow however for she had lost her mother at a young age as well and both women had died in childbirth. However, unlike Queen Aemma, Alicent's mother, Millicent Ashford, did not die in vain for her fatal labor bore her cold husband a healthy baby boy who reached adulthood.

That son, Alicent's younger brother Ser Gwayne Hightower, was originally the second in command of the Gold Cloaks, a position he gained due to his sister becoming queen. However following the Black Conspiracy, Gwayne was forced to step down from his position by his commander, Ser Luthor Largent, a longtime friend of King Daemon. Gwayne later joined his father and sister at the Red Keep and just like his two eldest nephews; he secluded himself in his chambers. But now, he was with his father and sister and her family in the garden listening to the harpist play. Despite the family gathering, tensions lingered.

Otto was still bitter about having to continue his duties as Hand of the King under king consort Daemon and he stewed quietly in his chair closest to the tree. Gwayne was still despondent over his forced removal from the City Guard but listening to the harp music appeared to be coaxing him out of his shell of depression. Aegon, who sat next to his sister-wife, was sanguine and sickly in appearance, the result of having spent a month in engaging in drinking binges and orgies with both Ruby and various other prostitutes. Needless to say, Princess Helaena was disgusted with her brother-husband's actions and the two sat next to each other in sullen silence. The children, who had seldom seen their father after the Black Conspiracy, had greeted their father out of politeness but afterwards kept their distance by sitting next to their mother.

Aemond was clutching his head in his right hand, silently trying to combat a lingering hangover. Prince One-Eye's skin was pale from having spent most of the month in his chambers drinking and cursing his half-sister and her family and his face bore a constant scowl. Thankfully the harpist's music was soothing and it did not further irritate the prince's aching head. Earlier that morning, the pain in Aemond's skull felt as if a hundred pickaxes were chipping away at the bone to find a rich vein of ore and now, it was just a dull, pulsing ache that would not go away. Thankfully, Aemond kept his usually acid tongue quiet.

Daeron was the best adjusted of his mother's children and he was clearly enjoying the music, a stark contrast to his older siblings. Seeing this made Alicent thankful that this musical performance was not made in vain. She secretly envied how mature her youngest child was in handling their family's downfall and Alicent wished she had Daeron's ability to retain dignity in the face of trying circumstances. She also wished her sons and daughter could enjoy the music just like their younger brother was but she knew that would not happen due to their different personalities. To Alicent's chagrin, she also took note on how her eldest son was looking at the young harpist, the look a man has when he sees a pretty young woman that he wants to bed.

Cheering from the coronation could be heard from the crowds within the Red Keep and from outside of the castle walls. The family took painful note of it but they did their best to ignore it. It was especially difficult to not hear the smallfolk chanting Rhaenyra's name as the new queen and her family made their way to the tourney grounds to begin the celebrations. Alicent clasped her hands together tightly as she listened to the noise.

" _They should be chanting out Aegon's name. Not hers… King Aegon Targaryen. Aegon the Second of His Name."_ she said to herself.

Looking around, Alicent saw that her oldest son remained outwardly indifferent to the cheering while his grandfather pursed his lips in displeasure and Aemond scrunched his face in pain as the sounds from outside seemed to aggravate his hangover. Everyone else was doing their best to ignore the sounds, trying not to imagine what things would have been like if Aegon had been crowned instead of Rhaenyra. But alas, time could not be rewound and past actions could not be taken back. They were going to have to live with this now for the rest of their lives. Alicent had just begun to accept this fact, even though it was done begrudgingly.

As the weeklong coronation festivities continued, Alicent and her family remained at the Red Keep. The twins wanted to see the tourney but were told no each and every time they asked. Every time they were told no, the twins pouted and they would receive a threat from their mother that they would be sent to their rooms with no supper. Though speaking of evening meals, Helaena did try to have her children partake in their half-aunt's coronation celebrations by having food brought up from the kitchens that was being served at the banquets. This gesture the children did appreciate and they happily ate in the Queen's Ballroom with their family.

After the coronation celebrations had ended, Alicent let out a sigh of relief. She no longer felt tense as she tried to block out the events that had been going on in and outside of King's Landing. But now a new source of worry came. With Rhaenyra's reign beginning, Alicent began to worry on what would happen to both her and her family. The queen knew that Rhaenyra was not the forgiving type and she feared that her stepdaughter had something unpleasant in store for her and her family.

At midday, on Rhaenyra's first official day as queen, Alicent and her family were summoned to the throne room. They family were escorted down in silence by castle guards. None of them wanted to ask on why they were being summoned, knowing that no one else knew why and because they did not want to get an unpleasant opinion on what the summons was about. The throne room was found to be empty when the family entered. Empty save for Otto, the Queensguard, Rhaenyra's small council, Wesley and his son Edmund, her family and the queen herself atop the Iron Throne.

Rhaenyra was wearing a gown made of rich maroon velvet and black silk with golden Myrish lace with pearls sewn in them decorating the hem, collar and sleeves and a cloth of gold sash belt with black satin squares wrapped around her waist. The queen's silver-gold hair was tied in a braid that was hanging down her back unseen and the crown of the Old and Young Kings resting upon her head. Daemon stood on the right side of the of the Iron Throne garbed in rich dark red and sable clothes with golden thread accents and wearing the Dragon's crown. Adding to the scene were the three great dragon skulls that were hung up along the walls of the throne room. The largest skull belonged to Balerion, the fabled mount of Aegon I; to his left was the skull of Meraxes, the beloved dragon of the Conqueror's younger and favorite sister-wife, Queen Rhaenys; and besides Meraxes was the skull of Quicksilver, the dragon of King Aenys I, the only child of Aegon and Rhaenys, and later their eldest grandson, the ill-fated Prince Aegon.

Even Alicent was impressed with what she was seeing. Rhaenyra was the living embodiment of what a Targaryen queen was expected to be and more. However when Alicent laid her eyes on Wesley, a great anger came over her. The old man was responsible for everything, the Black Conspiracy and the downfall of the Greens. If it weren't for him, none of this would be happening right now and Alicent often imagined herself wringing Wesley's neck in revenge for he had done.

As they approached the Iron Throne, Otto turned to face his family and his daughter was quick to notice something was wrong. Her father looked despondent and his Hand of the King badge was gone. Looking from her father to the assembled crowd of Blacks, Alicent saw the badge pinned on the tunic of Lord Corlys Velaryon.

Her heart sank when she saw that. This nightmare was getting worse and worse.

Alicent could see House Hightower's prestige slowly getting plucked away like feathers from a goose by a cook's boy. Lord Commander Darklyn held his hand up and ordered for the guards to stop the retinue when they were close enough to the throne. Everyone looked up towards Rhaenyra. The queen looked down upon them in silence before she spoke.

"Hello Alicent…" she said curtly, her voice echoing slightly throughout the massive chamber.

"Rhaenyra." Her stepmother said back in an acerbic tone.

Rhaenyra smirked upon hearing that. It was so fulfilling to see Alicent and her family looking up at her from the floor to the throne. How long had Rhaenyra been dreaming of this moment? For twenty-two long years, ever since Aegon the Elder was born. For all that time, Alicent and her children had been protected from Rhaenyra and her Blacks by Viserys I, but now, they were at her mercy.

The doors leading into the throne room opened and two guards entered whilst escorting a prisoner, the gentle clinking from his fetters and manacles resounding from the chains. Everyone turned to see who was being brought in. The prisoner was none other than Ser Criston Cole. After his disgraceful actions during the climax of the Coronation Tourney's finale, Rhaenyra had him taken to the dungeons. Rumor had it that when the royal family returned to the Red Keep, Rhaenyra had her former love interest placed in the infamous Black Cells for harming her son.

Luckier prisoners could hear the sea, the sounds of city life and the cries of gulls, breathe in fresh air, watch day turn to night and vice versa. Anyone who was thrown into a Black Cell was cut off from these. The Black Cells did not have windows, rendering the space pitch-black and the only scents and sounds the prisoner would sense would be their own body odor, urine and excrement and the echoing footsteps of the gaoler and whatever visitor the prisoner would possibly have. Regardless of the validity behind the rumor, Criston still carried an air of dignity even as he wore rags and appeared to be unwashed. To Alicent, he was still her sworn shield and she greatly appreciated his attempt to defend her honor during the tourney.

The queen watched Ser Cole approach the Iron Throne. It had all come down come to this. All of the heartbreak, the scheming and the fights that had gone on between Rhaenyra and her adversarial stepmother, half-siblings and Greens was soon to be brought to a close, or so she thought. Viserys I had tolerated the machinations of his Hand and second wife for far too long and now, Rhaenyra was going to do something about it. She waited for Cole to join the rest of the family before she announced their fate.

"Now that you are all here, I am sure that you are eager to know what I have in store for you."

"Yes," Alicent said. "we would all very much like to hear it."

Rhaenyra smiled. Alicent was making this too easy. But the queen's stepmother wasn't finished.

"A very small court you have here Rhaenyra. Where are Mushroom and all the Black bootlickers- pardon me, courtiers?"

Aemond sniggered upon hearing his mother's comment on the relative emptiness of the throne room. The prince's nephews and niece looked back towards their uncle with confused looks. Prince Lucerys tightened his hold on his sword as he listened. Rhaena took notice of her fiancé's building temper and she gently gripped his wrist to calm him. The rest of the family took Alicent's comment and Aemond's rude reaction in disapproving silence.

Rhaenyra's smugness morphed into an angry smile.

"I ordered them to stay out of the throne room for the time being. I wanted this to be a family matter, not a public spectacle. You will thank me later after this is is done that I had the compassion to spare you the embarrassment that might have occurred."

Alicent raised an eyebrow upon hearing her stepdaughter's words.

"What do you mean by that Rhaenyra?"

"You mean "Your Grace?" the voice came from Prince Jofferey. Aemond saw his half-nephew and was about to say something when his siblings and uncle stopped him.

"Aemond!" his uncle Gwayne hissed through gritted teeth, "Keep your damn mouth shut!"

Alicent glared at her step-grandson. How dare that little bastard talk to her that way. She may be the disgraced widow of King Viserys I Targaryen, but that did not mean she was to be treated so basely. If her Aegon had been crowned, Alicent was sure that her son would have had the tongues of the Velaryon Brothers removed and exile them from Westeros forever. Despite her wish to inflict retaliation upon Joff, Alicent could only just stand there and glare at the brown-haired brat.

Rhaenyra leaned back slightly, her gaze becoming haughty, and she spoke.

"Here is what I mean by that. My small council and I have come to a decision regarding you and your family Alicent. Henceforth, you are to be stripped of your titles and ranks, you shall now be referred to simply as lords and lady. And you shall be exiled. I will give you all of today to pack and on the morning of the morrow you shall depart from the Red Keep for Oldtown."

Silence fell over the Greens. Aemond balled his hands into fists while Aegon and Daeron's shoulders sagged and Helaena held her children closer to her. Alicent felt somewhat relived. At least they were not going to be executed, but something about Rhaenyra's words caught her off guard. Before she could speak, Daeron spoke.

"What about our dragons? Will they be staying here or are we allowed to take them with us?"

"After much consideration Daeron." Rhaenyra said. "It was decided that you can take your dragons."

The mounts of Rhaenyra's half-siblings, Sunfyre (Aegon the Elder), Dreamfyre (Helaena), Vaghar (Aemond) and Tessarion (Daeron) had been locked in the Dragonpit for the duration of the Black Conspiracy and coronation. The dragons trusted handlers did take them out one at a time for them to get fresh air and to stretch their limbs, but they had not been ridden due to their riders being under house arrest. Rhaenyra had thought of keeping the dragons in King's Landing to spite her half-siblings when Corlys suggested otherwise. The Greens were already losing enough and keeping their dragons would be counter-productive to Rhaenyra's efforts of trying to "soften the blow" of their downfall. Besides, who would ride the dragons if their riders were gone?

Rhaenyra conceded to Corlys' suggestion. Daemon also noted that since maybe only three dragons were leaving they would not pose much of a threat since the Blacks had more dragons than the Greens. As Alicent's children took in the news of being able to keep their beloved mounts, their mother broached the subject of Rhaenyra's earlier wording regarding their titles.

"Rhaenyra, you said "lords and lady". Do you not mean "ladies"?"

"No Alicent, I did mean lady. You will be known as Lady Alicent from now on."

"And what of Helaena and Jaehaera?" Alicent asked, fear creeping into her heart.

"Helaena and her children are to stay here. The rest of you will be leaving."

"Why!?" Alicent demanded sharply, fear filing her face.

"They are to remain here as hostages to prevent you and the other Greens from doing anything foolish—"

"NO!" Alicent cried, interrupting Rhaenyra. "You cannot! No!"

Words of disbelief began to be said amongst the family. Helaena froze as she took in what she just heard. She was going to be separated from her family, and not only that, she was going to remain in a court ruled by her vindictive half-sister and her family. She held Maelor closer to her chest with her right arm while she held Jaehaerys closer with her left hand. Jaehaera, went around to her mother's left and Helaena soon included her daughter into her protective embrace with her twin brother. Aemond turned red, causing his star sapphire eye to stand out even more.

He broke off from the group and he sauntered towards the Iron Throne. The Queensguard quickly intercepted him and they restrained the enraged man. However, his wrath made him strong and soon another Queensguard knight had to come over to help hold Aemond down. As the three knights dragged the prince back to his shocked family, he let his anger out for everyone to hear.

"You bitch! You can't do this! How dare you tear my family apart!"

Alicent was hysterical while her daughter was starting to weep. This in turn caused the children to begin whimpering. The other men were too stunned to speak but Aegon was seen ducking his head to wipe away tears while Daeron went to comfort his older sister.

"Take him to the dungeons." Rhaenyra commanded over the bedlam. "Do not worry about gagging him. Let him tire out his voice. Hopefully he will be mute tomorrow. But do chain him. He needs to be restrained."

With those words, the Queensguard dragged off the indignant prince to a cell. She had really wanted to have Aemond's tongue removed but she had to restrain herself. With only the sounds of weeping being heard, Rhaenyra continued with what she was saying.

"As I was saying, Helaena and her children will remain here to put an end to any treacherous plots your Greens may be conjuring up Alicent. But it will be a comfortable arrangement. Helaena and the children will retain their royal titles. Your life will be just the same as it was when father was alive."

"The same?" Helaena inquired tearfully, "How can you say that? Why can I not go with my mother and brothers? My children need their father…"

Rhaenyra sighed but before she could speak, Daemon spoke up.

"Your sister just explained it to you Helaena." Daemon said. Unlike his nephews, Daemon respected and liked his other niece more and he spoke to her a little more cordially. "This is to keep your mother from committing treason against the queen. She will not plot when she knows that you and your children will be put at risk. And to keep your mother happy, you and the little ones will be treated well. And your brother can stay with you if he so chooses."

Helaena turned to her older brother tearfully with a lost and pleading look.

"Aegon?" she asked, hoping he would stay.

Aegon looked at his sister-wife with an unreadable look. He wanted to stay, he truly did, but Aegon could not stand the idea of being under his half-sister's thumb. He could already picture what his life as a hostage in Rhaenyra's court would be like, being the subject of gossip, japes and stares by courtiers due to having given up his birthright to his half-sister. To top it all off, he would also be living on edge. Rhaenyra could always change her mind and have men sneak into his family's rooms and slit their throats. As much as he wanted to not to be a part of this, Aegon made up his mind.

He laid a gentle hand upon Helaena's shoulder.

"I will stay." He said.

Helaena sighed with relief and the sibling-couple embraced one another. Aegon felt redeemed. He had been torn over giving up his crown almost a month ago but now, the feeling that he did something right immediately covered up his lingering regrets. Alicent's sobbing had ebbed down to soft weeping. She was upset that she was going to be separated by her two eldest children and grandchildren, but at the same time, she was happy that they were going to stay together as a family.

Rhaenyra then turned her attention to Ser Criston Cole. Without a second thought, she called out his sentence.

"As for you Ser Cole. You shall be banished back to the Stormlands to your cousin's fiefdom of Cole Keep. I hereby strip you of your white cloak, you are free to marry and have children but you shall never be in the good graces of this court ever again. On the morrow, you will leave with the Hightower's and then go your separate way after leaving King's Landing."

Ser Cole took his punishment well. He did not show any sign of being indignant, angry or sad. Instead, he retained his straight posture and a look of determination. Rhaenyra considered Criston's look for a moment.

" _At one time, those eyes watched my every movement with adoration. Now, they look upon me with indifference."_ The queen thought. With a wave of her hand, she dismissed everyone and ordered them to begin packing for the journey home. As the servants packed the family's belongings away, Alicent spent time with her children and grandchildren. Aemond's overnight sentence had been revoked by the queen, by Corlys's suggestion, so that he could be with his family before the separation the next day.

The family awoke at the seventh hour of the morning. The Red Keep stirred with activity as servants loaded wagons with the Hightower's belongings, prepped the wheelhouse and as stable hands harnessed the horses. As the hour of their departure approached, the family gathered in the entrance courtyard. Alicent dearly embraced and kissed her son, daughter and their children for the last time. Aemond and Daeron embraced their older siblings and held their nephews and niece, promising to see them again one day and telling them that when they were old enough, the children could visit the Hightower on their dragons.

"Will you come to visit us Uncle Aemond?" Jaehaera asked. It was rare for the girl to speak and her question both surprised and endeared her family.

"Yes I will my little niece." Aemond said whilst sitting on one knee to be at level with Jaehaera.

"Don't you want your Uncle Daeron to visit too Haera?" Daeron said in a tone filled with mock hurt.

"Yes…" she said shyly. Jaehaerys piped up after his twin. "Will you still show me your sword techniques that Ser Cole taught you Uncle Aemond?"

"Of course Jaehaerys." Aemond said and he tousled his nephew's hair, causing the little boy to giggle.

Besides Jaehaerys, Aemond gently patted the head of his youngest nephew Maelor, who smiled sweetly upon feeling his uncle's hand atop his head. Despite his otherwise caustic personality, Aemond was the favorite uncle of his older siblings children and they adored him. Daeron was loved by his nephews and niece too, but he was more proper and soft-spoken while Aemond was more extroverted, energetic and loud. This fact made the farewell shared between Aemond and the children even more heartbreaking. At least there was the promise of visitation via dragon back in the future.

Soon the time for departure arrived and Alicent, Gwayne and Otto filed into their wheelhouse (Aemond and Daeron had gone to the Dragonpit to fetch their dragons.). Watching them from the Red Keep's veranda was Queen Rhaenyra I and her family. At long last, Rhaenyra was soon to be rid of her hated stepmother and rival. For years the two women had been competing for the affections of King Viserys I, the intensity of this domestic dual making the competition between Visenya and her younger sister and co-wife Rhaenys for their brother Aegon seem like child's play. In Rhaenyra's opinion, she found the levels her stepmother reached to try and win over her husband to her side to be particularly ridiculous.

Alicent reached this level by using pregnancy as her weapon and for this debacle with her stepdaughter, she used it twice. Rhaenyra could remember that just a fortnight after she announced her first pregnancy with Jacerys, Alicent became pregnant for the fourth time. The princess found that to be too much of a coincidence but her father was too drunk on joy to notice. The second incident occurred half a month after Viserys was born. Helaena had woken up one morning and found out that she had bled onto her bed sheets.

The thirteen year old princess had "bloomed" i.e started her menstrual cycle for the first time, and had taken the first step onto the threshold of womanhood. After cheering on this milestone, Alicent quickly arranged for the incestuous marriage between Helaena and her older brother to occur. The queen wanted her children to give their father grandchildren born from the line of from his marriage to their mother so that he would not focus so much on the grandsons that his eldest daughter had given him. Alicent's plan worked quickly for shortly after the marriage, Helaena announced that she was pregnant. However, the scheme almost cost the princess her life when her labor began just seven days before her fourteenth birthday and when her union to Aegon was not even close to being a year old.

Her young body had difficulty withstanding the strain of childbirth and the situation was made even more precarious since she was pregnant with twins. Thankfully, the children were born healthy and their mother survived, although she was bedridden for several days afterwards. Despite being overjoyed that she had become a grandmother for the first time, Alicent was disappointed with the flaws her grandchildren bore. The firstborn, Jaehaerys, was a polydactyl and he had six fingers on his left hand and six toes on each foot. The second born twin, Jaehaera, was a very sweet but unusually quiet and withdrawn girl who never cried, even as a baby, much to her mother's relief, and she was believed to be a simpleton by most.

These flaws were a minor victory for Rhaenyra since her sons had all been born healthy and perfectly formed. After the family had entered their wheelhouses, the drivers snapped their reigns and the horses began to move forward towards the open gate. Alicent looked out the window and watched as the battlements and gate passed by. The Red Keep had been her second home since she was thirteen years old. She had been living there for twenty-eight years, the first five she was simply the daughter of the Hand of the King and Jaehaerys I's caretaker, and the remaining twenty-three, she was the Queen Consort of Westeros.

Now, she was Lady Hightower again and would remain so for the rest of her days. Her father and brother watched as their second home was pulled past them. Despite the hour of the morning, many smallfolk lined the streets to watch their former queen leave their city. Alicent's reputation amongst the commoners was mixed. Some saw her as the epitome of a dutiful wife and mother who steadfastly defended her eldest son's birthright, while others saw her as a grasping bitch that was jealous of her stepdaughter's popularity in the Seven Kingdoms.

Overhead, two dragons ascended into the bright morning sky. The first fly up was Tessarion, Daeron's mount. She was a young dragon that was the about the size of a two-story tavern and was covered with cobalt scales, light blue wing membranes and had copper belly scales. Due to her coloring, Tessarion was known reverently as the "Blue Queen". The dragon that followed her was even more majestic.

Out of all the contemporary dragons, Vaghar was the biggest and the oldest. She was originally the mount of Queen Visenya Targaryen and was the sole survivor of the trio that conquered Westeros over a century ago and her pale-grey scales and white wing membranes were riddled with nicks and holes gained from arrows, even spears, from countless battles. Ever since the Conquest, Vaghar had continued to grow and at the present, she was the size the long dead Balerion was. One hundred and seventeen years of life had slowed Vaghar's movements and made her cautious, but her ferocity still remained. She was a source of immense pride to Aemond and it was rumored that he paid more respect to the ancient beast than he did to his own mother.

Vaghar let out a deep, guttural grunt as she ignored her aching bones in order to unfold her massive wings. Beating them softly once and then hard the second, Vaghar was able to achieve liftoff. The current from her wings caused a massive cloud of dust to materialize and the wind to blow hard enough to knock off the hats of some of the handlers. It was a magnificent sight to see such magnificent beasts take flight. It was even more so to watch Vaghar fly.

From their veranda, Rhaenyra and her husband watched the dragons fly off towards the main road leading out of King's Landing. It was a poignant sight to watch Vaghar leave the city that had been her home ever since its founding over a century earlier when it was just a fortress with palisade walls and was called the "Aegonfort."

"She's so big." Viserys said softly as he watched the dragon follow Tessarion. He had been learning more about the Conquest and he often imagined how glorious it must have been for his famous ancestors and their dragons. He wandered what the Lannister and Gardner forces thought when they saw the three dragons appear over the horizon and consume their men with almighty dragonfire, christening the slaughter henceforth as the "Field of Fire". Little Viserys hoped that the hatchling within his egg would grow up to become a beast worthy of song and history just as Balerion, Meraxes and Vaghar were.

When the dragons were out of sight and the Hightower entourage was out of the city limits, the royal family and their captives returned to the keep. The journey home to the Reach was a long one, even whilst traveling on the Kingsroad. The retinue sometimes stayed at the various inns that dotted the roadside and were even hosted in a few castles. Regardless of the current political situation of the kingdoms, the nobles were willing to put aside their differences or fears of being disapproved of by their new queen to provide shelter and food to Alicent and her family. Wherever they went, Aemond and Daeron's dragons attracted attention and from both smallfolk and nobles alike.

Almost three weeks had passed when the entourage finally reached the familiar walls of Oldtown. Lord Ormund, the Lord of the Hightower and the Voice of Oldtown and the rest of the family greeted Alicent and her kin somberly. He was also Alicent and Gwayne's cousin, and their father's nephew. Upon their arrival, Otto, who had rarely spoken a word since their departure from the Red Keep, had suddenly become ill and he became bedridden for the rest of the day. The next morning, he was found to have died in his sleep overnight.

During his funeral, Otto was remembered for his intellect and for his remarkable service as Hand of the King. Even Rhaenyra sent a raven bearing a letter describing a brief message of condolence and stating what a good Hand Otto had been for her great-grandfather and father. However, not many tears were shed for the man. Even by his closest family members, Otto was seen as a grasping and power hungry man who had little patience for others if they did not have anything he could benefit from. Alicent did not weep for her father and she justified her lack of tears due to remembering her father not crying when her mother was being buried.

The funeral however did bring the family together in a morose way. Rhaenyra allowed for Aegon and Helaena to travel to Oldtown to say their final good-byes to their grandfather. Their children stayed behind at the Red Keep since Maelor was too young to ride on a dragon with his parents and it would have been unfair for him to be left behind. Their mother, brothers and cousins greeted their arrival at the Hightower with subtle mirth. Despite the circumstances, Aegon and Helaena appeared to be well.

After the exile of the Hightower's, Aegon the Elder had busied himself with cleaning up his act. First Aegon cast out Ruby and swore off all other paramours, although not before bedding the female harpist his mother had hired to play for them during the coronation. Second, Aegon tried to curb his drinking although this not very successful. His efforts however were much appreciated by his sister-wife. Helaena's disappointment over her brother-husband's submission to the Blacks began to soften as Aegon tried to improve himself.

The princess herself had been doing well in spite of the circumstances. She coped with living at the Black court by keeping the company of her handmaidens, who remained by their mistress's side despite the political climate at the Red Keep, and tending to her family. She told her mother that her grandchildren missed her and wandered when she will return. Being away from her beloved grandchildren hurt, but hearing how they missed her caused Alicent to cry a little. It was the only time she was lachrymose during the events surrounding her father's funeral.

Aegon and Helaena were allowed to stay at Oldtown for a week before they were expected to return. When the time came to return home, their parting from their mother and brothers was sad but not as terrible as it was the first time. After their return to King's Landing, the couple was greeted by their excited children at the entrance courtyard of the castle.

"Mommy!" an excited Jaehaerys exclaimed as he ran into his mother's open arms. Helaena gave her eldest son a good, loving squeeze before kissing the top of his head. Jaehaera followed behind her twin with little Maelor clutching her hand. With his sister's assistance, Maelor toddled over to their father, who scooped him up off the floor and embraced both the boy and girl. Before his either parent could speak, Jaehaerys spoke up.

"Mommy, auntie Rhaenyra wants to see you."

Helaena gave her son a puzzled look.

"Did she say why darling?"

"No. She just told me to tell you to come to the garden to talk to her."

"What are you doing with her anyway son?" Aegon asked.

"Aunt Rhaenyra had us come to the garden to see cousin Visenya. She's tiny and sleeps a lot. After seeing her, we all played with Aegon and Viserys. When a servant told us that your dragons were spotted, auntie told me to let you know that she wanted to see you about something."

Helaena nodded with submissive acceptance.

"Very well. Go back to your cousins my loves. Tell your aunt that I have to change first before I come."

The children nodded and they went back to the gardens with their septa escorting them. Aegon was happy to know that he was not invited for an audience with his older half-sister. He was adamant to stay out of her way and sight. The feeling was mutual with the queen as well. It was up to Helaena to be the diplomat for her family's hostage status.

After getting dressed out of her mourning clothes, Helaena traversed through the halls to the Keep's garden. The sounds of children playing could be heard when she entered the verdant and florid sanctuary. Walking deeper into the garden revealed the source of the noise. The royal children were playing tag and Jaehaerys was "it". So far it appeared that Jaehaerys had tagged Jaehaera; running in a dress was not easy, and Viserys; who was nursing his left knee (most likely from tripping over a tree root or something) and was giving his half-cousin an angry, pouty look.

Now, Jaehaerys was chasing after Aegon, who was carrying Maelor on his back. The two year old boy was giggling with joy while his cousin panted with exhaustion as he tried to outrun a smugly grinning Jaehaerys. Aegon's speed began to slow down and Maelor's excited cries became more high pitched as his brother caught up to them. Jaehaerys soon reached them and he tapped Maelor and Aegon.

"Got you!" he cried out twice happily upon tagging his younger brother and cousin.

Aegon fell to his knees as he tried to catch his breath. Maelor crawled off his half-cousin's back and he plopped down next to him.

"I want to be 'it' this time." Viserys chimed up.

"No." Jaehaerys said. "I won, so I get to be 'it' again."

"Ugghhh…" Viserys whined.

Jaehaera considered her cousin's disappointment and she looked at her twin.

"Can't you be 'it' together?"

Viserys's mood immediately changed upon hearing that.

"Yes! Let's do it together Jaehaerys!"

"Alright." Jaehaerys said. He did not sound to thrilled about it. But when they resumed their game, the two boys were soon giggling and playfully taunting their siblings as they chased them around. Helaena smiled at the sight. If these children of Blacks and Greens could get along, then why not the adults? A voice was heard over the jubilant commotion.

"Princess Helaena."

Helaena turned to see the queen sitting on a bench under a tree by a fountain. She was wearing a purple and black dress hemmed with golden Myrish lace and in her arms was a swaddled Princess Visenya. Behind Rhaenyra in the shadows was the baby princess's wet nurse along with two members of the Queensguard. A chair had been set up in front of the queen's bench for Helaena to sit on. Helaena curtsied to Rhaenyra.

"Your grace," she said, the words tasting strange upon her tongue. "I was told by my son that you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, now sit down." Rhaenyra said. Helaena quickly obeyed and she sat down. Visenya stirred slightly and her mother rocked her gently back to sleep. Rhaenyra looked from her daughter and back to her half-sister.

"Would you like to hold her?" the queen asked. Helaena nodded and Rhaenyra carefully handed off her daughter to the princess. Visenya was sound asleep and did not wake up at during the exchange. Helaena thought that the nearly one month old princess was beautiful and perfect in every way. Unlike her mother and brothers, Helaena did not bear any ill will towards her half-nephews and niece.

When Rhaenyra brought her sons to their grandfather's court for the first time as babes, Helaena would hold them after her father had. The boys did not choose their mother and Helaena could not understand why her family was so biased against them, besides the dubious paternity of the Velaryon Brothers. Holding the princess caused Helaena to realize that Visenya was the only grandchild to have not been held by her grandfather. It was a sad thought and Helaena quickly buried it. Rhaenyra observed the scene with an inquisitive eye.

"A lovely child is she not?" Rhaenyra said proudly.

"Yes she is." Helaena said without looking up. "She's going to grow up to be a lovely young woman. Her father and brothers are going to have their hands full when suitors start swarming the Red Keep asking for her hand."

Rhaenyra smiled softly at that comment. Her arms ached to hold Visenya again and she held out her hands to collect her child from Helaena. Giving the newborn a kiss, the queen then gave the child to her wet nurse, who in turn placed the baby in a cradle and began to rock her gently. Resting beside the baby girl was a dragon egg. Its shell was scaled and looked to be made out of polished steel and it scintillated with light from the spots of sunshine that peered through the foliage of the tree.

"Now," the queen began. "the reason why I have summoned you here."

Helaena leaned in to listen better.

"Ever since the birth of your older brother, the divide in father's court became very obvious. It has been a nightmare for both our families with all the bickering, arguments and spreading of vile rumors. Father tried not to get involved to avoid making one side think that he was favoring the other. Now that he is gone and I am queen, I want to mend the rift between our families."

Helaena listened to her liege's words, drinking them in steadily. She could not believe what she was hearing. Rhaenyra, a stubborn woman who believed everything she did was right was speaking of establishing peace between the Blacks and the Greens.

"The best way to have that happen is through marriage, a marriage between my only daughter, a Black princess, and your youngest son, a Green prince. Do you not want this fighting between our families to end Helaena? Maelor and Visenya will grow up together and they will form a close bond I'm sure. They will be the symbol of our families moving beyond our feud and into a brand new beginning for House Targaryen. What do you think Helaena?"

Helaena became rigid in her chair. By all means she wanted to say yes but something held her back. Years of being told about the unworthiness of Rhaenyra's claim next to Aegon's and the constant fighting between her mother and half-sister had embittered her to agreeing with anything Rhaenyra would say. Helaena recalled what her brother had told their mother during that fateful morning when he gave up his crown to their uncle.

" _I just want all this fighting to end._ "

She too wanted it to end. Aegon had been the linchpin of the Greens goal to champion primogeniture but even that primary position did not stop her brother from submitting to the Blacks whims. If Aegon could see the folly of prolonging this family squabble, then why should his sister? Ignoring the great weight she felt upon her lips, Helaena spoke.

"I…" she began tenuously, the weight slowly lifting like a sluice gate and allowing her words to flow. "I too want this to end. It has gone on long enough. My son Maelor, will marry your daughter, his cousin, when they come of age."

The queen smiled.

"Good." Was all she said.

All the while this was going on, little Maelor continued to play tag with his cousins and siblings. As they played, tiny Visenya slept soundly in her cradle beside her dragon egg. As the two little ones were immersed in their blissful moment of existence, their mothers planned their combined destinies. A two year old boy was engaged to a newborn girl who was almost a month old. What would their world be like when the time for them to be wed?

* * *

 _ **If only Alicent knew what the canon future would have been like, she would have been happy with her current situation. Visenya would have been a mutated stillbirth, Luke would have been killed by Aemond over Shipbreaker Bay, poor little Jaehaerys beheaded by Blood and his mother Helaena driven mad with grief over witnessing his murder. Here, both Blacks and Greens are healthy and alive.**_

 _ **I was originally going to have Aegon leave with his mother and brothers but decided against as I was typing out the throne room scene. Try and improve Aegon the Elder's image a little bit.**_

 _ **The next chapter will detail Rhaenyra I's first year as queen. Thank you for reading and please review! :)**_


	7. Chapter 6: The First Year

**Sorry for the long wait! I have been busy with work and my other stories. Besides that, I have worked on _Reign of the Dragon Queen's_ timeline. Let's just say that I have come up with a lot of ideas for this story. Also, I would like to point out a slight change I have made. In Chapter 4, I wrote that Bartimos Celtigar had sailed with Corlys Velaryon during their youth. Double checking my math, I realized that that would not have been possible. So, the change is that Bartimos is the son of the man who had sailed with Corlys, Phineon Celtigar. Anyway, enough delays, enjoy the story! :)**

 **Author's Note: Blood and violence ahead. **

129 AC – 130 AC

Being a queen was hard work. She had to rise early in the morning, get dressed, break her fast, and then go to the small council chamber where the queen would spend hours discussing or debating topics such as crime, taxes, and alliance statuses. Next she would sit upon the Iron Throne and have audiences with visitors who had traveled far and wide to bring light to issues from home that were beyond their capability of fixing, and visiting delegates from other lands. After this, the queen would return to her small council chamber for more discussions before going to her own personal chamber where she would sit behind a desk reading or writing letters to or from all over the Seven Kingdoms and the Known World (minus the Triarchy of course). The queen would have a few moments of respite for meals or family interaction before she was back at work and then to bed, restarting the cycle anew the following morning.

Nevertheless, Rhaenyra soon grew accustomed to her new daily routine. She was always punctual for the small council meetings and she retained her focus no matter how boring those gatherings got. The same could not be said for her husband however. Daemon never had any interest in politics, only bloodshed. As a young man, Daemon served briefly as Master of Coin and Master of Laws during the reign of his late brother, with the first position lasting hardly a year, and the second only six months. Losing interest in government affairs, Daemon finally found his niche when he became the Lord Commander of the City Watch. With Dark Sister in hand, Daemon drastically cut down King's Landing's crime rate and turned the City Watch into a prestigious force by equipping them with better weapons, armor, and their trademark golden-yellow cloaks, from which the Watch got their moniker the "Gold Cloaks".

Since Daemon rarely sat in on small council meetings, unless the topic was about warfare and criminal punishment, Westeros's first king consort busied himself with turning his sons into men. Aegon and Viserys were not the strongest lads; their bodies being frail and lean. In fact, Daemon was positive that Visenya was more robust than her older brothers even though she was just a baby! The king spent countless hours in the training yard with his sons trying to hone their skills. But while Daemon's stepsons thrived during their training, his sons usually floundered, frustrating him to no end.

His frustration was often compounded by tension. Besides Daemon and his male kin, Prince Aegon the Elder would often come to the training yard with his squire Edmund and son Jaehaerys in tow. The prince and king would keep to their own side of the training yard, but this did not prevent the underlying malice between the two sides from spilling over occasionally. If one of Daemon's sons stumbled during practice, the king thought he heard a contemptuous snort coming from his nephew's direction. When Jaehaerys slipped in mud while trying to strike a dummy one day after a night of heavy rainfall, Aegon the Elder and Daemon nearly came to blows when the former heard his uncle laugh at his son.

During these incidents, both Jacaerys and Edmund would try and mediate between their respective stepfather and liege. Both men had the gift of negotiation and were able to stop anything terrible from happening, but the tension would remain. Since Aegon the Elder was rarely in the presence of his half-sister, his wife often bore the brunt of Rhaenyra's displeasure whenever she was in the company of the queen after the latter had been informed of the latest confrontation between their husbands. Words were never exchanged between the two women during those times, but Helaena could sense an icy aura emanating from her half-sister and she was too scared saying anything in fear of igniting the queen's temper. The negativity would rub off on Helaena and she sometimes found herself being short with her children, something she would quickly hate herself for and apologize profusely.

Despite the tension, the first eight months of Rhaenyra's reign passed by smoothly without too much incident. Three months after the coronation, white ravens were dispatched by the maesters of the Citadel to signal the transition from summer to autumn. The maesters predicted that the fall season would last for four years, a prediction that was formulated from information gleaned from star maps. Fruits, vegetables, and grains reached their peak ripeness in the fields, leaves slowly began to change color, and the air began to cool as autumn pushed out the last vestiges of summer from Westeros. With fall came harvest time, and peasants worked the fields and orchards and fattened up their livestock to prepare for winter.

As the year wore on, a remarkable event transpired in the Red Keep's garden. One crisp day during the ninth moon, the younger royal children were playing tag underneath the warm colored foliage. Prince Viserys was it and he was hot on the tail of Jaehaera when he noticed something unusual from the corner of his eye. Resting underneath a rose bush, was a dragon egg. It was a beautiful thing; the shell was pitch black with a gold lightning bolt shaped vein running down from the top of the egg to its middle. It was the young prince's most prized possession and he carried it with him wherever he went.

And now it was moving beneath dark green leaves of the bush.

Excited, Viserys stopped chasing after his cousin and he went over and crouched in front of his egg. A giggling Jaehaera looked over her shoulder to see that her cousin was preoccupied with something else. Her twin and younger brother followed their sister in suit to see what was going on. Curious as to why the garden was suddenly so quiet, the septa that had been watching the children got up from her bench and began looking for them. She soon saw their silver-gold heads and when she approached the children, Viserys slowly began to stand up.

The septa stopped dead in her tracks when saw what the seven year old prince had in his hands. A dragon hatchling that was half the size of a house cat. It's scales were midnight black with golden-yellow ones on its belly and under its neck. The newborn creature had gold wing membranes and horns that were ringed with black, and citrine eyes. The hatchling let out a series squeaks and hisses into the air as it observed its surroundings, terrifying the septa, but amazing the children, Viserys in particular.

Because of the hatchling's scale color, Prince Viserys proudly named his dragon Ravenscale. Just like with the egg, Viserys took Ravenscale with him wherever he went. The hatchling was perched on Viserys's shoulder during lessons or meals; where the prince would feed Ravenscale scraps from his plate, and when Viserys played tag and he happened to be it, Ravenscale would fly around and land on the heads of those escaping the prince, letting out excited screeches as if he were tagging them on behalf of his master. When Viserys would go to sleep, Ravenscale would be curled up beside his future rider like a cat. When Ravenscale attempted to breath fire for the first time a month later, small black flares with golden cores shot out from his mouth.

The excitement over Ravenscale's hatching added to the jubilant attitude that was slowly building up in the Red Keep and capitol city. The twelfth month was fast approaching and with it, the double wedding of the Velaryon Brothers to the Targaryen Sisters. To ensure that the children born from the marriages of the Velaryon brothers carried the Targaryen name, King Daemon officially adopted his stepsons. Even though they were now Targaryen's, some people still referred to the three brothers as Velaryon's out of habit. The news of the adoption disgruntled the remaining Greens and some of Corlys Velaryon's forever silent nephews and grandnephews, but if there were complaints, neither party made it public.

Soon, the waiting period for the wedding dwindled down from months to weeks and then days. As the final day of the year drew closer, the capitol's population surged as nobles from all over Westeros and the Free Cities streamed into King's Landing. The most notable guests were Jeyne Arryn, Borros Baratheon, Rhaenys's maternal cousin; and his four daughters, the non-mute members of House Velaryon, and numerous Pentoshi magistrates and high-ranking merchants. The wealthy visitors brought many gifts for the soon to be wed couples. Gifts like silks, jewels, richly embellished tomes, perfumes, swords, armor, and practical ones like cradles, blankets, and toys for the queen's future grandchildren.

The wedding was a beautiful affair. Watching from the royal balcony, a tearful Rhaenyra and somewhat stoic Daemon watched as their eldest children were wed. Baela and Rhaena wore resplendent gowns and their shoulders were draped with capes bearing the Targaryen dragon. The capes that Jacaerys and Lucerys replaced on their fiancées bore their own custom made heraldry: both a party per pale with the Targaryen dragon on one side and the Velaryon seahorse on the other. For Jacaerys' heraldry the dragon was on the left side and the seahorse on the right, for Lucerys the dragon on the right, and the seahorse left.

Jace and Luke may be officially known as Targaryen's, but they remembered their Velaryon roots no matter how much their paternity was contested.

When the couples kissed, the entire sanctuary erupted into cheers that could be heard outside of the sept's thick walls, causing the gathered crowds outside to cheer as well. When the newlyweds walked outside into the sunlight, they held each other's hands up in triumph, causing more cheers to ring out and for hats to be flung up into the chilly air. Vermax, Arrax, and Moondancer were perched on the sept's roof and when they saw their riders, and they let out a series of roars as they began to fly around the perimeter of the temple. The revelry continued on throughout the day with a tourney and feast before it ended with the commencement of the bedding ritual. And with that, the final day of 129 AC ended on a good note and 130 AC began with a jubilant start.

One month after the wedding, Jacaerys and Baela Targaryen departed for Dragonstone. Shortly afterwards, a great coincidence occurred. Both Baela and Rhaena announced that they had become pregnant at the same time. When she heard the news, Queen Rhaenyra shouted with joy, startling her half-nephew Jaehaerys, who was now her cupbearer; nearly spilling her wine. Daemon's usually grim face lit up when he heard that he was to become a grandfather twice over.

More good news followed. Two months after the initial pregnancy announcement, Rhaena awoke early one morning hearing strange sounds. Perched on top of the footboard of her bed was a dragon hatchling. Her scales were the palest gold, her eyes the color of white wine, and she had a white belly and wing membranes, and golden claws and horns. Rhaena could not believe her eyes.

When she was a little girl, Rhaena had another hatchling who had died hours after it was born. After Rhaena's stepmother gave her another egg from Syrax's nest, Rhaena prayed over it every night hoping for the hatchling to be born healthy and to be as strong as her twin sister's dragon. And now, Rhaena's prayers had come true and she was the mistress of a truly magnificent beast. Rhaena's excitement was so great, that her husband became concerned for the wellbeing of their unborn child, but thankfully nothing happened. Because of the time of day Rhaena discovered her hatchling's birth, and due to her scale color being reminiscent of morning sunlight, Rhaena named her long awaited dragon Morning.

Everything seemed to be going so well for Rhaenyra I Targaryen and her family.

But that all changed one evening on the 25th day of the seventh moon. At dusk, Mysaria was visited by a raven with a small scroll tied to its leg. Unrolling the scroll and reading its contents, the White Worm's eyes went wide with shock and she quickly departed her chambers. She burst into the Queen's Ballroom where the royal family was having supper together.

"Mysaria, what is the meaning of this?" Rhaenyra asked in astonishment.

"Pardon my interruption your grace." Mysaria said suddenly with a grave tone. "But I have just received some information that requires your immediate attention."

Without a word, Rhaenyra, Daemon, and Corlys rose up from their seats and headed to the small council chamber, the bemused stares of their kin following them. The queen summoned the rest of her council and soon the meeting chamber was full. With everyone in attendance, Mysaria read the contents of the scroll out loud. A fleet of ships carrying a mercenary army consisting of the Second Sons and Bright Banner companies was on its way towards King's Landing, and was due to arrive at Blackwater Bay in the early hours of the morning. Even more shocking was the identity of the individual heading the armada.

Jasper Wylde, the Lord of Raindance and the former Master of Laws during the reign of Viserys I.

The small council went into an uproar. The queen turned red and she gripped the armrests of her chair so tightly, she thought she was going to break them in half. Silently, a fuming Rhaenyra stood up, her movement unseen by the frenzy that was going on around her. To get their attention, Rhaenyra slammed her fist down hard upon the table.

"Silence!" She shouted. The talking stopped and all eyes were upon the queen. Breathing heavily with rage, the queen turned to her Hand.

"Corlys, how soon can you ready your fleet?"

Undaunted, Corlys answered. "As soon as I can get a raven out to Driftmark and High Tide. After that they should be ready."

"Bartimos." The queen barked out after listening to Corlys. "What is the status of our navy here at the docks?"

"Ready for combat." He answered confidently. "I will send the word out to have them manned and ready to set sail on your command your grace."

"Stop." Daemon said suddenly, interrupting his niece-wife. "This is all unnecessary."

The queen's purple eyes widened and anger flowed into them.

"Daemon," she said, her voice dangerously low, "are you trying to supersede my authority?"

Meeting his wife's furious countenance with a steely glare, Daemon spoke.

"No my dear, what I am doing is speaking with reason. I personally believe you should hold off on sending out a large naval force. There is more to this."

"Do explain Daemon."

Taking a deep breath, Daemon spoke.

"Why would Jasper arrange a mercenary navy to attack us? Do you realize what a stupid idea that is? We are Targaryen's Rhaenyra, we ride dragons. Remember the fate of the Arryn fleet during the Battle of Gulltown? Visenya had Vaghar turn that navy into a floating bonfire on the Narrow Sea."

"Your point Daemon?" Rhaenyra asked, raising one of her eyebrows. Everyone else's attention was rapt on the king consort.

"My point is, Rhaenyra, is that Jasper has intended to attack as during the night when we are asleep in our beds. His navy may be large, but he does not intend to confront another navy. He wants to ambush us in a night raid when we are unable to get our dragons. What I am saying is that it would be a waste to send out our navies. We should instead use our dragons.

Bring the wrath of our house down upon the treasonous bastard with fire and blood..."

Rhaenyra stared at her uncle-husband. She felt foolish for not having thought of that the first time. Her temper had blinded her common sense, making her both impulsive and wrathful. Realizing that there was an awkward silence, a flustered Rhaenyra spoke.

"A most… excellent point husband." Rhaenyra said, swallowing her pride. A cheeky smirk appeared on Daemon's face.

"However." Rhaenyra said suddenly. "We should still have some ships available. Dragons may be powerful, but it does not hurt to be cautious."

After some quick words, House Targaryen mobilized their forces. Rhaenyra sent out a raven to Dragonstone to call her firstborn son to arms. Daemon headed off towards the Dragonpit with Lucerys and Jofferey in tow. Getting Joff to come with them had been a battle in itself. The queen had strongly opposed to having her thirteen year old son go into battle with his brothers, stepfather, and grandmother; she did not feel that he was ready for it and believed that his dragon was still not mature enough for combat.

"I want to go mother." Jofferey said to the queen. "I want to fight for you. Please let me go… I'll follow Luke and Daemon and attack when they do. I promise."

Clasping her third born son's hands in hers, Rhaenyra looked into his eyes with both worry and pride.

"You swear to stay with Luke and Uncle Daemon at all times?"

"Yes mother, I do."

"Do you swear by the Seven to-"

"Yes mother." Jofferey said quickly, cutting off his mother before she could tell him to be safe again. He looked like he regretted doing that. But Rhaenyra was not the least bit angry. Instead she kissed Joff's forehead and caressed his left temple lovingly.

"Gods be with you my son. Just know that I so proud of you. You are a great man in the making…"

After having her husband and second son swear to protect Joff, the men got dressed in their armor and set off. Meeting the three at the Dragonpit was Rhaenys. She was dressed in her steel and copper armor, her white streaked silver hair tied in a braid that was slung over her right shoulder. Rhaenys was surprised by the presence of her youngest grandson but if she was against him being there, she did not say a word. Instead she headed inside, her cousin and grandsons following her.

A sleepy Meleys groaned as she was led out of her enclosure by Rhaenys.

"Come on girl not now." Rhaenys chided her mount. "We have a battle to fight. I can't have you acting so petulantly. Your brother and nephews are not complaining. I promise you that it will be worth waking you up."

Intrigued, the Red Queen made an effort to move more enthusiastically, much to her rider's amusement.

Jofferey went into Tyraxes' enclosure with a chain harness in hand. The dragon had been awakened by the noise outside and he seemed nervous. Seeing his rider, Tyraxes walked up to Jofferey. Illumination from the braziers outside glimmered off of the dragon's copper scales. Tyraxes was a colorful dragon; from the crest to the tip of his tail were black, eyes like two yellow tourmalines, belly and wing membranes a light beige, and his horns, claws, and teeth black.

Tyraxes was the size of a juvenile elephant but had the energy of a colt. When the two got closer, Tyraxes lowered his head, causing Joff to smile and pet his mount. Pleased by his master's touch, Tyraxes leaned his head further towards Jofferey, making the prince to chuckle.

"Hello boy." Joff said as he traced a scale with his thumb. "I've got good news." Tyraxes let out a grunt as if he was asking what the news was. "We are going into battle Tyraxes. Isn't that exciting?"

Tyraxes looked at his rider and nodded his head slightly. Smiling, Jofferey put the harness on Tyraxes neck and led him out of the enclosure. After the dragons were fully harnessed and saddled, they took flight into the night sky. Jofferey inhaled the clean night air. It was cold, chilling his insides, but it smelled so clean and fresh and it calmed his nerves.

The light of a full moon brightened the tops of soft, grey, wool like clouds and stars glittered in the black sky like diamonds. Looking down below, Joff could see the Narrow Sea and behind him, the fading flecks of light from King's Landing. This was happening, Prince Jofferey Targaryen was embarking on his first battle. He gripped the reins and inhaled deeply again. Lucerys, who was flying on Joff's left, took note of his younger brother's demeanor and he glided Arrax a little closer to Tyraxes to talk with Jofferey.

"Nervous Joff?"

"Yes." He said with a nod.

"You will be fine Joff, Daemon and I will keep you safe. I promise that no harm will happen to you with your big brother around."

Jofferey smiled softly.

"Thanks Luke."

"You're welcome." A short silence before Luke said, "I have to, or else mother and Rhaena will never forgive me and I will be hounded from this life to the next for not keeping you safe."

"They won't do that." Joff's said disbelievingly.

"You've seen how angry mother can get," Luke countered, "but the seven hells hath no fury like Rhaena." Joff gave his brother a strange look. Luke continued. "She doesn't turn red or shout like mother when she's wroth, but Rhaena has this glare that could have terrified the Black Dread…"

As the brothers talked, Rhaenys and Daemon were engaged in a conversation of their own, and serious one at that.

"We should be getting closer to the Ironrod's navy soon." Daemon said. " we should stay above the clouds for now. Until we see the moment to attack."

"And when would that be?" Rhaenys asked.

"Corlys advised Rhaenyra to write to Jacaerys that he should be the first to attack since Dragonstone is closer to the navy's predicted route. In other words, when we see Vermax's dragonfyre, we swoop down and strike."

The mention of Dragonstone worried the usually indomitable Rhaenys.

"What of Baela?" She asked her cousin. "Is she safe?"

"Yes she is Rhaenys." Daemon said quickly and reassuringly. "That was the exact same question I asked Corlys when I was getting ready. He ordered some of his ships to protect the island and our precious Baela from harm."

Rhaenys sighed with relief.

"Good." She said.

The group flew for almost a quarter of an hour before they saw what they were looking for. Jets of pale yellow fire and four ships caught aflame in the open sea. Daemon rallied his family.

"Jace has attacked! Let's go!"

Taking Daemon's lead, the dragons dove down from the clouds and flew towards the navy. The sound of men shouting grew louder, and the scent of smoke and burning flesh became stronger as the Targaryen's approached. Jofferey tightened his grip on Tyraxes reins again and steeled himself for what was to come. Vermax's actions awoke the battle lust of his family members. Mercenaries scrambling on the ships heard snarling and when they looked behind them, their eyes was greeted with the sight of four incoming dragons.

Caraxes unleashed his blood red flames upon the first ship he came across, bathing every soul onboard with his dragonfyre and consuming the ship entirely. Meleys flew over the burning wreckage and she breathed a trail of rose pink flames over a series of ships. Arrax turned right, with Tyraxes on his tail, and shot out a torrent of yellowish-green flames towards the navy. Encouraged by the colorful inferno, Tyraxes exhaled orange flames into the green conflagration caused by Arrax. The stained glass inferno lit up the Narrow Sea with pulsing firelight and the dancing forms of dragons, a scene that seemed too fantastic to be real.

Even as their ships burned, the mercenaries put up a fight. Crossbowman aimed their weapons at the dragons and let out volley after volley of bolts. The missiles were more like stinging flies than a serious threat to the likes of Meleys and Caraxes, but to Vermax, Arrax, and Tyraxes, they were a little more debilitating due to the young ages of the dragons. Jofferey rose his shield up the when he saw the first wave of bolts fly out from the ships. Being cautious, Jofferey flew Tyraxes away from the ships, bolts shooting past him; with three striking his shield.

While Jofferey tried to avoid the brunt of the conflict, his stepfather had other ideas. Daemon would fly Caraxes straight towards the ships in the line of fire, breathing powerful dragonfyre upon his enemies or letting the Bloodwyrm snap at the puny men beneath him. As he circled around the burning fleet, Daemon noticed how some of the ships were pulling away from the armada in an attempt to escape. With the center of the fleet incinerated, Daemon watched as his cousin and stepsons fly out to intercept the stragglers. Looking down into the fiery fray, Daemon saw the armada's flagship.

Pink and orange flames made quick work of the sails and it consumed the outline of the ship. Men scrambled about the ship, either taking up positions to shoot their crossbows or stripping off their armor so that they would not sink like a rock when they jumped into the water to escape from burning to death. While chaos reigned onboard, Daemon saw a single figure standing alone in the middle of the ship. The king had a hunch that that man was Jasper Wylde. Deciding to see for himself, Daemon urged Caraxes forward towards the ship.

As he got closer, Daemon released his harness to Caraxes' saddle. When they were close enough, the king leapt from his dragon's back and he landed on the stern with a loud thud. Standing up quickly, Daemon went into action before anyone could register who the intruder was. Dark Sister in hand, Daemon slashed the throat of the first man who tried to confront him, and clashed with the second who came up behind the first. Despite his foe's youth, Daemon, a seasoned warrior, was able to overpower him and send the tip of his sword down into the man's left inner thigh, cutting open his femoral artery.

Crossbowman took aim at the king as their comrade fell, blood spurting from his thigh. Before they could shoot, Caraxes bathed them with a torrent of crimson flames. Infamous for his ferocity during the War of the Stepstones, the sight of the Bloodwyrm attacking their ship caused most of the remaining forces to panic and abandon ship. Daemon made quick work of the brave few that remained with well-placed slashes and thrusts. As the blood of the fallen pooled around the corpses, Daemon made his way to the treasonous Lord of Raindance.

Throughout the whole battle, Jasper just stood outside the captain's quarters watching the ensuing pell mell still as a statue, seemingly indifferent to the fact that his planned coup d'etat had floundered before it had even reached Blackwater Bay. He looked up from the glistening pools of blood when he heard Daemon approach him. The king's plate armor was splattered with blood and Dark Sister dripped with the red ichor, giving the already intimidating man an even more formidable appearance. But if Jasper was terrified, he did not show it. Without a word, Jasper unsheathed a dagger from his belt.

Seeing the former Master of Laws puny weapon caused Daemon to chuckle scornfully.

"Have you gone simple Lord Wylde? You will look more pathetic before my wife and the nobility with one hand when you are being tried for treason."

Jasper's indifferent countenance morphed into a frown and he spat on the deck. He pointed his dagger at Daemon and spoke for the first time.

"What you and the Blacks have done is treason. No woman, no matter the circumstances, inherits before a man. That is the natural order established by the Father above, and you usurped it only because you wanted to be king…"

"Treason is treason Jasper." Daemon said with a serious tone. He took a step closer and Jasper backed away, his dagger held out in front of him. Daemon sighed with exasperation. "Come on Wylde, lets not make this anymore difficult than it has to be." Daemon held out his hands and gestured to the burning carnage behind around them. "You have lost. Just surrender now and face your trial and death with dignity."

"What dignity?" Jasper said, his blue eyes rapt on the approaching king. "Surrendering to you, a niece fucker? And to be tried and found guilty by your crowned whore of a wife? Tell me Daemon, where is the dignity in any of that?"

The insults caused Daemon's temper to rise, and he marched towards Jasper. The Lord of Raindance rose his blade to his throat.

"Not by you!" Jasper yelled.

He then dragged the blade through his own throat. Blood shot out of the Lord of Raindance's opened throat and onto Daemon's cuirass and left gauntlet when he rose it up shield his face from getting splattered. Jasper's eyes rolled up and he collapsed dead.

"Damn it…" Daemon groaned with annoyance. He really wanted to bring Jasper back to King's Landing alive for trial and execution. Looking at the corpse, Daemon had another idea. He could something back for his queen. Grabbing Jasper's brown hair with one hand, Daemon chopped away at the corpse's neck until the head was cut free from the body. Satisfied, Daemon called for Caraxes, and he jumped on his loyal mount's back when he neared the bow.

With that, the Wylde Rebellion, the name given to the first serious threat to Queen Rhaenyra I's reign, ended before it even began. The rebellion's only battle was henceforth called the "Burning of the Narrow Sea". Some of the stragglers from Jasper's sellsword navy had been routed by some of Corlys's fleet. That same night, the Targaryen's and their dragons returned to King's Landing. Flanked by torches and her Queensguard, Rhaenyra greeted her husband and Caraxes in the Red Keep's courtyard.

The queen's eyes widened when Daemon presented her with the head of her late father's Master of Laws. After inquiring on what led to Jasper getting beheaded, Rhaenyra seemed satisfied with her husband's explanation. She then ordered for Jasper's head to mounted on a spike on top of the Red Keep's gates as a warning to anyone who dared to plot against the crown. Although angry with House Wylde, Rhaenyra, at the suggestion of her Hand of the Queen, ordered Rhaenys to take Meleys and fly to Raindance to have Jasper's kin bend the knee in subservience to the Iron Throne. Taking Blackfyre, the famous sword of the Conqueror, Rhaenys had the new Lord of Raindance, Jasper's nephew, bend the knee, kiss the sword, and swear and oath of fealty to Queen Rhaenyra I Targaryen.

Shortly after the failed Wylde Rebellion, the Blacks learned the facts regarding the failed treason. Infuriated about the Black Conspiracy, a seething Jasper had secluded himself in his chambers at Raindance and began writing letters to anyone he knew who had even an ounce of Green sympathies to work with him on overthrowing Rhaenyra and crowning her youngest half-brother as king. No one wrote back, except for one. The sole responder was Vintennio Marrizo, a wealthy Lysene merchant who also happened to be a cousin to Lysandro Rogare, the head of the powerful Rogare Bank of Lys. Angry over losing profits due to the trade boycott between the Triarchy and Westeros, Vintennio wanted to open the routes up again and he found Jasper's cause to be the only way to do that.

Plus, he also found the idea of earning a position in the court of King Daeron I Targaryen when he was crowned to be an extremely tempting reward.

Jasper set sail for Lys and once there, the two began to amass an army to take King's Landing for the Greens. Vintennio took out a loan from his cousin's bank under the pretext of needing it to supply a merchant fleet, and he used the money to purchase some ships and the services of two mercenary companies, the Second Sons and the Bright Banners. Jasper met with the company captains and signed contracts with both of them. When the army was complete, they set sail at dusk. The initial plan was that the first wave of the Rebellion was to launch a surprise attack on King's Landing and seize it, while the second wave was to arrive in Westeros and help hold the capitol until the Greens came to claim the Iron Throne.

The Lord of Raindance had sailed with his sellsword fleet to watch his coup unfold.

However, despite all of the planning and detail that went into the Wylde Rebellion, there was one oversight that both Jasper and Vintennio overlooked. Loose lips. Before the first wave set sail, a soldier serving in the Second Sons paid for the services of a prostitute. After they had finished their intercourse, the lust addled man boasted about taking part of a plot to overthrow the queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Unbeknownst to the man, his lady friend was actually a member of Mysaria's spy network in Essos.

After her client had left, the prostitute quickly wrote a letter to the White Worm detailing everything she had heard and coaxed out of the man. An investigation by Mysaria after the Rebellion ruled out any involvement by House Hightower. Vintennio's identity was discovered through one of Jasper's letters in his study, and he was quickly arrested. When the queen wrote to the Triarchy requesting Vintennio's extradition to Westeros for trial, the magistrates sent her a box containing the merchant's mummified head along with a note that read:

" _You were fine with Wylde's head. We all felt that you would be the same with this one too._ "

Frustrated, Rhaenyra nevertheless had Vintennio's head staked beside his coconspirator's. After that, both the Seven Kingdoms and Essos settled down. For many days after the Burning of the Narrow Sea, pieces of charred wreckage from the battle washed ashore at both Westeros and Essos. To reward Jofferey for his bravery during his first battle, Rhaenyra had a shield made for her son out of the pieces of unscathed wood salvaged from the debris. The shield was called the "Shipwreck Shield" by Joff and his brothers.

The rest of the year passed by quietly, along with the trimesters for both Baela and Rhaena. As their bellies grew, so did the queen's excitement. One month before the sisters were due, Rhaena and Lucerys sailed for Dragonstone. They had been invited by Baela and Jacaerys for a special reason. The fourteen year old twins had been born together, and they wanted to give birth together side by side.

That day came on the fourteenth day of the eleventh moon. Baela and Rhaena both went into labor simultaneously sometime before dawn. The queen and king, who had come to Dragonstone a few days earlier to be present for the births of their grandchildren, had been awoken from their sleep and now they were waiting outside of the main bedchamber that they had once shared together. Waiting with the monarchs were the expecting fathers, Jofferey, Corlys, a few of his family members, and the queen's ladies-in-waiting. Rhaenys was inside the bedchamber with her granddaughters offering them encouragement and comfort; Aegon, Viserys, and Visenya were still asleep in their rooms.

The queen paced up and down the hallway, turning her rings around her fingers like millstones. Rhaenyra recalled her husband telling her that her father had done the exact same thing when she was in labor with Jacaerys all those years ago. Now it was her turn to be the anxious expecting grandparent, and her sons to be the expectant parents. Daemon's anxiety manifested in his leg shaking and his son-in-laws twiddling their thumbs or sitting back straight against the wall on a bench. Everyone else just stood or shuffled about.

How long the labor lasted nobody knew. The hallway was fully lit by the morning sun when the cries of two newborns filled the air. Rhaenyra stopped pacing and all but ran to the door with her skirts held in her hands. Daemon, Jace and Luke stood up rapidly. A few moments later, Grandmaester Gerardys exited the room and closed the door behind him.

"How are they?! My grandchildren? Baela and Rhaena?" The queen blurted out.

Gerardys smiled softly.

"All four are doing well your grace." Everyone relaxed. Gerardys turned his attention to Jace and Luke. "Princes Jacaerys and Lucerys." The boys stiffened up considerably in anticipation of learning of their children's sexes.

"Your wives have successfully given birth to your children, boy and a girl each. Jace, you are now the father of a son, and Luke, you have a daughter. Congratulations both of you."

The two brothers smiled when they heard the news. As they were being congratulated, Gerardys ushered the brothers into the room to see their newborn children. Moments later, the queen, king, and their children and Corlys were brought in to see their two new family members. Baela and Rhaena were propped up by pillows, their skin clammy and hair matted from the strain of giving birth, their husbands hovering over them. In the new mothers arms were their swaddled babes.

Seeing their parents, Jace and Luke gently took their newborn children from their wives arms to give them to their grandparents. Rhaenyra sat down in a chair and held out her arms so she could hold her grandson. As gently as he could, Jace placed his baby son in his mother's arms. Luke did the same with his daughter by giving her to his stepfather, her maternal grandfather. The room became silent as Rhaenyra and Daemon held their firstborn grandchildren.

Rhaenyra discovered to her delight that her grandson, who was born first, possessed both his parents features; a fine head of brown hair and purple eyes. He had chubby cheeks and a strong grip his grandmother learned when the baby boy grabbed her finger with both his tiny hands. From Jace, Rhaenyra learned that her grandson's name was Baelor. His cousin, who was born just a minute after Baelor, had her mother's Valyrian features: silver hair and purple eyes. Her name was Alysanne, and she was just as strong and healthy as her cousin Baelor.

"So beautiful…" Rhaenyra whispered, her eyes sparkling with tears.

Being a queen was hard work. Sitting on boring meetings, dealing with rebellion, discontent, and handling family dilemmas all fell upon her shoulders. Rhaenyra had to put the needs of Westeros before her own, and meeting her newborn grandson and granddaughter gave the queen so much respite from her regal responsibilities. Her heart swelled with love, a sensation she remembered feeling when Jace had been born. But now as a grandmother, Rhaenyra dared to feel an even greater love for her sons children.

She had never felt so happy and complete.

 **Baelor and Alysanne are the first OC's to be introduced in my story. There are going to be more coming up soon. I know that my story seems to be proceeding slowly, but just remember, there is a lot coming up and I am building up this alternate timeline. Anyway, thank you for your patience, for reading, and _please review! :)_**


	8. Chapter 7: We Light the Way

**Because of the recent wave of new story favorites and followers, I felt obligated to get this chapter out as quick as I could. I am so happy on how well this story has taken off! Positively thrilled! Anyway, this chapter will be focusing on the Greens in Oldtown. Time to catch up with Alicent and her sons after their exile from King's Landing. Without further adieu, enjoy!**

 **Author's Note: Slight lime ahead. It is my first attempt at erotic writing.**

 **PS: I will be creating chapters depicting the family members so that my readers can know who is who and how they are related. I will add full ones at the very end of the story with a few other surprises to avoid spoilers. ;) **

_Oldtown_

The year had gone by so quickly. Summer had given way to fall, the Black regime was threatened; the peril then subsequently destroyed, and Queen Rhaenyra I Targaryen welcomed the arrival of her two firstborn grandchildren. 130 AC was also an eventful year for the exiled Greens at Oldtown. Although not as interesting as Rhaenyra's first year as queen, her stepmother's first year as an exile was rife with just as much tension. Even being holed up in the impenetrable Hightower did not prevent Alicent from being paranoid about whatever machinations, real or imagined, she believed her stepdaughter was cooking up against both her and her family.

Her paranoia only increased when she learned how the Wylde Rebellion was thwarted. Learning that the White Worm had a spy network that extended all the way into Essos, Alicent began to fear that Daemon's old flame had spies working throughout Oldtown and even within the levels of the Hightower Pharos. Alicent became guarded around the servants, believing that any one of them could be listening behind closed doors or around hallway corners; collecting information to pass over to Mysaria via raven for her to then relay back to the queen. The former queen was thankful that she burned the letter when she did.

Even though a covert investigation had revealed no solid evidence of House Hightower's involvement with the Wylde Rebellion, Alicent did receive a letter from Jasper just prior to his flight to Lys. Jasper wrote with words meant to get a rise out of Alicent: her late husband's betrayal, the humiliation and separation of her family, all which led to the piece de resistance, the overthrow of the Blacks and the installation of Daeron as king. As much as Alicent wanted to bring back her family's former glory, one thing held her back, the lives of her captive family in King's Landing. Even though the letters Helaena wrote to her mother did not overtly reveal any of fears, Alicent knew that her daughter, son, and grandchildren lived with swords dangling above their heads. If Alicent were to do anything even remotely treasonous to the Blacks, the lives of her children and grandchildren would end at the sword.

Shortly after contemplating this, Alicent held the letter over a candle flame; the fire consuming the treasonous parchment and its contents and reducing it to a pile of ash.

Besides living in fear of retribution, Alicent did find some solace being back at her childhood home. Having no sisters of her own, Alicent socialized with her cousin-in-law and Lady of the Hightower, Priscilla Bulwer, and widowed aunt through marriage (also Ormund's mother), Alecia Redwyne. Alicent's female cousins, Ormund's younger sisters, had all been married off and lived at their husband's seats of power in the Reach with them and their children. From morning to dusk, Alicent's hours were spent either socializing with her female kin, reading, doing needlework, or writing letters to her daughter. While their mother found comfort through traditional noblewoman hobbies, Aemond and Daeron dealt with their exile differently.

Aemond would hone his swordsmanship in the Hightower's massive training yard with two of his mother's second cousins Ser Brynden and Hobert, and tending to Vaghar during the daytime. At night, he would take his male kin and aqcaintences out into the city to visit the most high-end brothels for a "good time". Aemond would present the pimp or madame with a sizable bag of gold dragons to pay for every one of the working girls in their establishment to "entertain" the wild prince and his companions for the night. Besides sowing his wild oats with Oldtown's finest harlots, Aemond also partook in the occasional serving girl at the Hightower. In fact, one of Aemond's trysts had recently landed him in trouble.

One particular servant, a pretty blonde kitchen maid named Margaret, became pregnant by Aemond after having spent one night with Prince One-Eye. Hearing of this, Alicent immediately asked Ormund to terminate Margaret's services, a desire the Lord of the Hightower gladly satisfied. Nine months later, Margaret brazenly returned to the Hightower with a swaddled newborn girl in her arms. The guards had barred the woman's entry at first, but Margaret stubbornly refused to leave until Aemond came to see his daughter.

Hearing of the ruckus outside, Margaret was begrudgingly allowed inside the Hightower by Ormund. Escorted into the Lord of the Hightower's study, Margaret was met by Ormund, Alicent, and Aemond. Before three people who outranked her in every way, Margaret demanded that Aemond acknowledge and take in his bastard, stating that her father, a miller, would not allow his daughter's lovechild to live under his roof. Astonished by Margaret's audacity, Alicent and Ormund initially scoffed at Margaret, saying that they also did not want the bastard living with them either. However, the greatest surprise came from Aemond himself.

Rather than being scornful towards Margaret and her demands, Aemond walked over to her from his mother's side. When he was close enough, Aemond extended out his arms and Margaret quietly transferred the baby to her father.

"What is her name?" Aemond had asked when the infant became fussy, an attitude that soon evaporated when her mother gently stroked her forehead.

"Lily, Lily Flowers."

With baby Lily in his arms, Aemond presented her to her grandmother. Although less than happy to being a grandmother to yet another bastard, Alicent had to admit, Lily was a cute baby. She had a blonde, fuzzy head, brown eyes like her mother, and enjoyed sucking her thumbs. Seemingly won over by her newborn granddaughter adorable nature, Alicent had a wet nurse provided for Lily who, besides feeding her, would also take care of the child and bring her up in Margaret's stead. Margaret was not allowed to work in the Hightower again, but she did have the right to see her child occasionally while she was working in Oldtown.

At first, Aemond seemed to embrace fatherhood. He would visit Lily in her nursery to hold and talk to her almost every day. But as time wore on, Aemond, only a man of twenty, decided that he wanted to only be a father part-time so he that he could enjoy his youth. His visits to Lily became infrequent; soon turning into Aemond only seeing his daughter no less than two days out of the week. Being socially conscious, Alicent did not present Lily to her cousins and female relatives.

Instead she would have her baby granddaughter brought to her late in the evening before she retired to bed. It had been a custom Alicent had at the Red Keep with Helaena bringing her children to see their grandmother before their bedtime, a custom the Disgraced Queen had missed very much and was reviving through this bastard she did not want to acknowledge originally.

While Aemond was a source of eternal concern for Alicent, her youngest son Daeron was an absolute angel in comparison. Daeron kept to himself, stayed out of trouble, and engaged in nobleman hobbies like reading about history, philosophy, religion, and rhetoric; swordplay practice with his older brother, walks in the garden, and flying Tessarion around Oldtown. Just like at the Red Keep, the tongues of every female in the Hightower were wagging about the handsome prince and his benevolence and humbleness. Despite having many admirers, Daeron did not take interest in any of the women. He preferred solitude for the most part. Walking in the massive garden that surrounded the Hightower on a man-made tier was the perfect way for Daeron to escape the intrigues and drama of his family, especially during cold fall days when the gardeners and other people would be absent.

Despite wanting wanting to be alone, the former prince did have company on occasion.

The day after the births of Prince Baelor and Princess Alysanne, Daeron went out on one of his walks. The day was cold and flurries fell gently down from the armor grey sky above. He had just entered the garden when he heard footsteps coming up behind him. Turning around, Daeron smiled when he saw who was following him.

"Ah, Lilith. What brings you out here?"

The girl curtsied before Daeron.

"The same as you my lord, to get fresh air."

Daeron smiled softly at Lilith's reply. He could tell that that was not the real reason why Lilith came outside to join him. It was well known that Lilith barely tolerated cold weather, preferring to stay warm by sitting by a fireplace or wearing furs. In fact, Daeron was quite sure that Lilith was pursuing him in a romantic way. Rather than being annoyed however, Daeron found Lilith's subtle affections to be cute.

"I see." Daeron said and he gestured down the path with his chin. "Come along now cousin. Let us get some more of that fresh air."

Lilith happily walked up to Daeron's side. She was petite with a round face and wavy brown hair and eyes. Despite being short, Lilith kept up with Daeron's stride. To outside eyes, Daeron and Lilith could have easily been mistaken for an older brother and younger sister walking together in the garden. But Lilith was no ordinary girl.

She was the second daughter and the youngest of four children born to Ormund Hightower and Priscilla Bulwer. Lilith was four years younger than Daeron, with her being born in the year 118 AC. The second cousins first met four years earlier in 126 AC. That year, Queen Alicent Hightower sent Daeron to Oldtown to serve as Ormund's cupbearer and squire. The prince received a grand welcome from his mother's cousins and their families.

Lilith could still vividly recall the arrival of the royal entourage. Targaryen banners fluttered in the wind and an elephant sized Tessarion flew high in the sky above to the delight and awe of the gathered crowds below. It was an amazing to watch the Blue Queen land and her rider dismount. Lilith could remember how warm her face got when she first caught sight of Daeron. To hide her blush, Lilith looked away in the direction of the stables.

Lilith's older sister Regina caught her younger sister looking away, and she elbowed her to stand at attention when Daeron was approaching. Thankfully, the handsome prince did not notice his then eight year old cousin's predicament since he was being warmly greeted by Lord Ormund. For the duration of his stay, Lilith felt that Daeron was barely aware that she even existed. But it was not because Daeron was snobbish; Lilith was too bashful to be around Daeron and she did her best to avoid him so that the prince would not see the sanguine complexion he would bring out in her. Four years on however, Lilith, now twelve years old and a budding romantic, had become much more braver and she wanted to get to know Daeron better.

Because of the age gap between them, Daeron and Lilith did not cross paths often since they mingled with people who were around the same age as they were. Whenever they did happen upon each other, Lilith usually inquired Daeron about his wellbeing or said something complimentary to him. Shortly after arriving in Oldtown, Daeron discovered that he had lost a pair of riding gloves during the journey from King's Landing. A few days later, Lilith gifted her cousin with a pair of new gloves she had made for him. They were made of fine black felt and had Daeron's initials monogrammed in red thread and he was in fact wearing those same gloves during the current walk with Lilith.

Because of her sweet words, kindness, and genuine interest in his wellbeing, Daeron had become quite fond of his young cousin.

Pressing forward through the avenue of trees, the two struck up a conversation.

"How is your sister doing my lady?" Daeron asked politely. Having him calling her a lady made Lilith blush lightly.

"Regina is doing well my lord." She replied. "She is excited about her upcoming wedding."

"Oh yes that's right, I forgot. I am so sorry." Daeron said with true remorse, causing Lilith to smile. It was her cousin's turn to blush.

"No worries Daeron." She said with a chipper tone. "To remind you, she is due to be married on the third moon and her fiancé is Norman Mullendore, the Lord of Uplands."

"I see thank you. Is Regina nervous about getting married?"

"Somewhat." Lilith said. "Lord Mullendore is ten years my sister's senior. Regina showed me some of the letters he writes to her. He sounds like a nice man."

"Has your father betrothed you to anyone yet cousin?" Daeron asked.

"No, not yet. Father says that I am still a little too young to be married."

Daeron came across a dead leaf on the path and he pushed it out of his way with his foot.

"Whoever your father chooses to be your husband Lilith, he will be a very lucky man."

Touched, Lilith looked up at her cousin with awe.

"Really?"

"I would not have said it if it were not true."

Lilith looked down at her feet, her face looking as if red wine had been splashed on it. Her cheeks swelled with a smile.

"T-thank you my lord." She stammered. "You are most kind."

"My pleasure." He said with a small smile of his own.

As the two continued their peaceful stroll, someone watched them from high above. From a veranda on the sixth floor of the Pharos in the residential quarters of the impressive stronghold, Lord Ormund watched his daughter bond with Daeron. Despite being located so far up from the garden, the sharp-eyed Ormund could tell that it was his daughter and his cousin's son down below. Daeron was wearing a black cloak while Lilith wore her favorite scarlet one. Coincidentally enough, the colors of those cloaks were the same as House Targaryen's heraldry.

This was not lost upon the Lord of the Hightower. In fact, this gave him an idea. His house may have lost its prestige in the Crownlands thanks to that bitch Rhaenyra and her Black cronies, but Ormund was determined to restore House Hightower's glory. And to do that, he needed Valyrian blood. Blood of the dragon to be exact…

Later that afternoon, Ormund summoned Alicent to his study. Leaving her ever loyal chambermaid outside, the door was closed behind Alicent and she soon found herself alone with her cousin. Sitting behind his desk, Ormund gestured for Alicent to sit down. Taking a seat, Alicent sat down with her back straight and her hands folded neatly on her lap. Queen or not, Alicent was still as graceful and regal as ever.

"I am here now cousin." Alicent began. "What is it you wanted to see me about?"

Ormund gave Alicent a half-smile.

"Straight to the point, just like Uncle Otto, Seven rest his soul."

Alicent let out a soft snort.

"One of the few good things he taught me. Father was never one to mince words. But now, once again cousin, what is it you wanted to see me about?"

Keeping his excitement contained, Ormund intertwined his fingers together and leaned forward from his chair.

"It is about Daeron and my daughter Lilith."

"What about them?" Alicent asked, her maternal instincts flaring up.

"It has come to my attention that ever since you and your family were exiled here, Lilith has become rather fond of Daeron, a feeling he clearly reciprocates."

"Well she is a young girl." Alicent said, "She is at that age when maids blossom into womanhood and think of boys."

"Yes I am very well aware of that cousin, I have three sisters and two daughters. What I am trying to tell you is that I personally believe that rather than let them remain as acquaintances, Daeron and Lilith should be married to each other."

Alicent's eyes widened with surprise. She did not see this one coming.

"You wish to discuss betrothing my son to your daughter?"

"Yes." Ormund stated, leaning back into his large, ornately carved chair; gripping the ends of the armrests. "But there is more."

Interest peaked, Alicent focused intently on her cousin, leaning forward slightly to hear more.

"As we all know cousin, anyone who has the blood of the dragon running through their veins is an invaluable marriage candidate. The Red Keep is always overflowing with men who dream of gaining an enviable court appointment and who also happen to be the fathers to eligible daughters; girls who can help their dear fathers' wishes come true. Getting you married off to a Targaryen prince or even one of their Velaryon cousins had been the main reason why your father brought you to King's Landing the first place all those years ago."

"My father's motives were never lost upon me." Alicent mused. "He had grand plans for me the moment I was born. A royal marriage would have made up for the disappointment my father must have felt when he learned that my lady mother gave birth to a daughter rather than another spare son…"

Ormund gazed at his cousin sympathetically before returning to his topic.

"With the Blacks having the most influence in the east, we can gain a hold here in the west with the help of your two sons Alicent. Their dual heritage of Targaryen and Hightower has caught the eye of many noblemen with female kin to spare. However, there are only two Targaryen's here. We need more people with dragon blood in order to increase House Hightower's power within the west. We should start our expansion with the marriage between Daeron and Lilith.

Whatever children they will have will marry into powerful houses, increasing our power and influence. Do you not agree Alicent?"

Alicent cocked up an eyebrow and looked impressed by her cousin's grandiose plan.

"An interesting scheme cousin." Alicent spoke. "Do you plan on Daeron establishing a Hightower-Targaryen dynasty here in Oldtown with Lilith as his consort?" She then chuckled. "Heh, it is quite fitting actually. Aegon the Conqueror had originally considered to make Oldtown the capitol of his newly subjugated Seven Kingdoms before settling on the Aegonfort."

Ormund shared his cousin's humor.

"Yes it is quite fitting." He settled down and became serious. "It will take time Alicent, but I promise you that this will bear much fruit for our great house. Hopefully in due time, that wretched stepdaughter of yours will take note of the growth of the Green Targaryen's in the west and she will panic. Whoever will be her Hand by then will hopefully talk some sense into her and have her bring back our kin to the royal court. Then, the glory we had during the reign of your husband shall be restored. "

Ormund was grinning broadly. Although the plan seemed sound, Alicent still had her doubts, but mostly they were born out of caution.

"Are you sure it will be that simple Ormund? To be frank with you, it does sound a little too dreamy."

Ormund's grin faltered a little and he adopted an assuring tone.

"I promise you that it will Alicent. We just need to bide our time and be patient. Uncle Otto always said that the best things came to those who wait." Seeing concern in his cousin's eyes, Ormund knew what he had to say next. "Don't worry cousin, this will bring no harm upon your children and grandchildren. Rhaenyra would not do anything to them just because their siblings are getting married and having children."

Somewhat reassured, Alicent came to a decision.

"Very well Ormund, I agree to betrothing my son to your daughter."

Shortly afterwards, Alicent and Ormund informed their children about the betrothal and what it entailed. That evening at dinner, Ormund announced Lilith and Daeron's engagement and that they were to be married within a month's time. So much for Lilith being too young to be married. While the news of the upcoming nuptials was warmly received by the family (albeit some jealousy from Regina) Daeron and Lilith had mixed feelings about it. Daeron had expected Aemond to get married before him since he was twenty, not to mention the fact that Daeron felt he was destined to be wed to someone a little closer to his age, and Lilith felt that her marriage had come too soon.

But as the month wore on, Daeron and Lilith did come to accept it. After all, Daeron did tell Lilith that any man who was to become her husband would be a lucky man, and as it turned out, it was to be him. Lilith had been harboring a crush on the former prince for the longest time and the realization that he was soon to be her spouse caused her to become very excited. Earlier that year, Lilith had bloomed, signifying that she was a woman now and ready to bear children. The idea of childbirth did strike fear into Lilith since she was petite, but having been taught from childhood that it was her duty as a female to be a wife and mother, Lilith knew that she would have to endure it no matter how she felt about the subject.

Soon the twelfth moon came, and in Oldtown's famous Starry Sept, Daeron and Lilith were wed. For the first time in over a year, Alicent was truly happy as she watched her youngest son marry his second cousin. She also had another reason to be happy. Aegon the Elder and Helaena had arrived in Oldtown with their children to attend their baby brother's wedding. Alicent kissed and embraced her family dearly upon their arrival, especially her grandchildren whom she had not seen since her departure from the Red Keep.

Graciously on Rhaenyra's part, Aegon and his family were allowed to stay for a week after the wedding.

During the ceremony, Daeron draped Lilith's shoulders with a cape bearing the combined sigils of their houses: a shield quartered with the Hightower Pharos and Targaryen dragon. After sealing their union with a kiss, Daeron and Lilith walked down the aisle hand in hand, smiling. That night, a glorious wedding feast was held in the Hightower. As guests dined on an exquisite repast, a vast array of entertainers performed their art. There were jugglers, jesters, mimes, and even an acrobat troupe from Dorne.

But the most spectacular entertainer that night was the pyromancer. When she came to take her place in the open area in the middle of the grand hall, all male eyes were on her. The woman was tall with long, black hair, a color that was accentuated by her pure red dress. When she approached a brazier that had been prepared for her, the woman stood still for a moment and closed her eyes like she was meditating. After a brief moment, she opened her eyes and procured a pouch from her belt.

Pouring the contents of the pouch onto her hand, a light powder, the pyromancer held her hand out in front of her and blew on it. The minute the cloud of powder came in contact with the flames, it grew into an inferno, startling the audience. Undeterred by the fire's frightening growth, the pyromancer then held her hands out. Soon the flames took the shape of a ship with billowing sails bobbing up and down on fiery waves. The pyromancer then brought her arms in front of her, the backs of her hands leveled at her face; she then began move her hands up as if she was climbing an invisible ladder.

Pale orange tentacles belonging to a kraken then emerged from the flames to wrap around the vessel and dragging it down into the deep. Following the dramatic display, the pyromancer created more scenes from t he fire. She alternated between soothing her audience with scenes of deer frolicking about and birds in flight and shocking them by showing clashing warriors and lions fighting. As she worked her magic, the pyromancer's eyes flashed red from the glare of the flames, increasing her mystique. None were more taken in by her than Lord Aemond Targaryen.

From the minute she appeared, Aemond was entranced by the unearthly woman. His one eye studied her form, with extra attention paid to her breasts and hips. When their eyes met during her act, Aemond felt a great spark form between them and he knew right then and there that he had to have her. It would be the perfect coupling; the fire goddess and the dragon. Thoughts of bedding the fiery maiden soon began to occupy Aemond's lusting mind.

Taking notice of his second cousin's interest in the pyromancer, Garmund Hightower, Ormund's eldest son and heir, leaned over towards Aemond and whispered, "She is a follower of the Red God you know."

"I can see that." Aemond hissed, angry that someone was interrupting his thoughts. However, he was interested. "She's from Essos? What is her name?"

"Believe it or not, she is actually a bastard from the Riverlands." Garmund said. "She's the lovechild of a peasant woman from the Lord of Riverrun's lands and a traveling Red Priest from Tyrosh. Her name is Alys Rivers."

"How do you know all of this?" Aemond demanded.

"A foster sister from Highgarden." Garmund replied. "Alys had been hired to perform at her brother's wedding. The widow Lady Regent of Highgarden, Mary Tyrell, was curious about Alys' origins and she told her ladyship everything. Apparently Alys' talents were discovered by a troupe of traveling mummers when she was a child and the group's magician took her on as his protégé. She traveled the Known World with that troupe and for some reason, she decided to return to Westeros on her own."

"Why?" Aemond asked. Garemund shrugged

"I don't know why, my foster sister said that Alys did not divulge her reason. All she said was that her god told her to come back in a vision she saw in a fire."

"Huh. Fascinating…" Aemond said, returning his attention back to Alys and his thoughts about her.

Later that night, after the bedding had been done and the wedding guests had gone to bed, Aemond was still up and wide awake. He had ordered a servant to approach Alys and to give her the message that Aemond had wanted to see her alone in his chambers. A little past midnight, someone rapped on the door. Hopping off his bed, Aemond speedily walked to the door and opened it. Standing outside in the hallway was Alys and the servant.

"Here she is my lord." The servant stated before having the door slammed in his face. Shutting the outside world, Aemond turned his attention towards Alys. She had made her way towards the fireplace and was watching the lively fire. Hearing Aemond approach, Alys turned around.

Coming closer to her, Aemond could see that the red enchantress had grey eyes, adding more to her allure. Alys curtsied before Aemond.

"My lord." She said with a soft tone.

"Alys Rivers." Aemond uttered, seeking the words to converse with Alys. "I was told that you were originally traveling in Essos when you suddenly returned here in Westeros. If I remember correctly, it was because your god told you to. Is this true?"

"Yes." Alys answered simply, nodding her sable head.

Feeling confident, Aemond continued. "Why don't you tell me what you chose not to reveal to the Lady of Highgarden? I can keep your secret."

A light smile formed on Alys's face.

"I saw your face in the flames."

Aemond was somewhat taken aback by this.

"You left Essos because you saw my face in a fire?"

"Yes." Alys replied as if what she had just revealed was an everyday occurrence. "A man with pale hair and one Old Valyrian eye and the other blue stone. R'hllor does not give his children visions without reason. Showing me your face was a sign from him, and that is why I returned to this heathen land. I believe that my destiny lies with you."

Hearing those words, Aemond's initial surprise soon melted away into arousal. The way Alys spoke to him and she was saying was quite tantalizing. He walked closer to Alys until there was only inches between them. Alys looked up into Aemond's face. The firelight glimmered in his real purple eye while his star sapphire eye sparkled.

Aemond's gaze moved from Alys's heart shaped face to her chest. He began to trace her collarbone with his finger.

"What else did you see in that fire Alys?" Aemond asked in a low voice. "What else did your god reveal to you?"

Alys's smile became wider.

"He showed me…" Alys began to unbutton Aemond's tunic. "He showed me images of us together… A child born of two fires…" Aemond's hands moved to the strings on the back of Alys's dress.

He had drowned everything around him out except for Alys and the words she was saying. "You riding a mighty dragon into battle bedecked in armor, bringing fire and death to your enemies. You wielding a sword to eliminate the obstacles standing in the way of your family's ambitions... Standing tall over the fallen heretics like Azor Ahai..."

The words were like an aphrodisiac and Aemond could not take it anymore. Grabbing her tightly, Aemond drew Alys to him in a deep kiss. Alys returned his affections in kind and soon the two found themselves quickly disrobed, falling onto Aemond's bed, and engaging in passionate carnal activities. Despite the fact he had become a father for the first time that year, Aemond did not seem to mind that he was soon to be conceiving another bastard however. To him, life was too short to worry about such things, especially if it was part of his newfound "destiny."

From what he was experiencing so far with the practictioner of the Red Faith, R'hllor sounded like Aemond's kind of god.

 **Sigh, Aemond is following in his older brother's steps. Not much is known about Alys Rivers in the canon storyline. The _A Song of Ice and Fire_ Wikipedia hinted that she may have been a red priestess so I thought why not? It makes it more interesting. Also, about cousins, I know that it can be quite confusing when the terms second and third cousins, or even cousins once removed comes up. **

**To help you understand that easier, here is a list about cousin relationship terms and what they mean. It took me awhile to figure out too. It all has to do with generation and what kind of grandparent relation you share.**

 **1. First Cousin: The child of your aunt or uncle. You share a set of grandparents with this cousin. **

**2. Second Cousin: The child of your parents' first cousin. You share a set of great-grandparents with this cousin. Rhaenyra and her first husband Laenor Velaryon were second cousins because they shared Jaehaerys I and Alysanne Targaryen as great-grandparents. **

**3. Third Cousin: The child of your parent's second cousin. You share a set of great-great-grandparents with this cousin. Get the gist of it so far? **

**4. Cousin Once Removed: A cousin you have but from a different generation. For example, a first cousin once removed can refer to either your parent's first cousin, or the child of your first cousin and vice versa. **

**5. Cousin Twice Removed: The cousin of your grandparent or the grandchild of your cousin. **

**6. Cousin Three Times (Thrice) Removed: The cousin of your great-grandparent or the great-grandchild of your cousin. **

**Anyway, thank you for reading and please review! :) **


	9. House Hightower circa 130 AC

**_Sorry for the long wait. This was a big project since I made eight chapters. I was originally going to publish them one at a time, but then I thought why don't I just publish them all at once? Four of them detail the family members that are around during the time period the chapters take place in. Of course they will expand as the story goes on. This was very fun to do and I came up with new details to help expand this non-canon story world. Without further adieu, enjoy the story! :)_**

 ** _Ormund Hightower_**

• **Grandparents** :

oLothar Hightower ( _paternal grandfather_ )

oEliza Florent ( _paternal grandmother_ )

• **Parents** :

oThurston Hightower ( _father_ ) – Older brother of Ser Otto Hightower and Ormund's predecessor.

oAlecia Redwyne ( _mother_ )

• **Siblings** :

oMaria Hightower ( _younger sister_ )

oConstance Hightower ( _younger sister_ )

oJuliet Hightower ( _younger sister)_

• **Spouse** :

oPriscilla Bulwer ( _wife_ )

• **Children** :

oGarmund Hightower ( _son_ )

oReginald Hightower ( _son_ ) – Older twin brother of Regina.

oRegina Hightower ( _daughter_ ) – Younger twin sister of Reginald.

oLilith Hightower ( _daughter/first cousin once removed-in-law)_

• **Children-in-Law** :

 _Regina Hightower_

oNorman Mullendore ( _son-in-law_ ) – Regina was engaged to the Lord of Uplands in late 130 AC.

 _Lilith Hightower_

oDaeron Targaryen ( _paternal first cousin once removed/son-in-law)_

• **Step-Cousin** :

 _Alicent Hightower_

oQueen Rhaenyra I Targaryen ( _step-first cousin once removed)_

• **Cousins** :

oBrandon Hightower ( _first cousin_ )

oElmer Hightower ( _first cousin)_

oAlicent Hightower ( _first cousin_ )

oSer Gwayne Hightower ( _first cousin_ )

oSer Brynden Hightower ( _second cousin)_

oSer Hobert Hightower ( _second cousin_ )

 ** _Alicent Hightower_**

• **Grandparents** :

oLothar Hightower ( _paternal grandfather_ )

oEliza Florent ( _paternal grandmother_ )

• **Parents** :

oSer Otto Hightower ( _father_ )

oMillicent Ashford ( _mother_ ) – Died giving birth to Alicent's younger brother Gwayne in 91 AC.

• **Siblings** :

oBrandon Hightower ( _older brother_ ) – Died from a fever when he was just a few months old…

oElmer Hightower ( _older brother_ ) – Died from an illness when he was four…

oSer Gwayne Hightower ( _younger brother)_

• **Spouse** :

oViserys I Targaryen ( _husband_ ) – The fifth Targaryen king. Alicent was Viserys's second wife.

• **Stepchild** :

oQueen Rhaenyra I Targaryen ( _stepdaughter_ ) – Alicent's most bitter rival.

• **Children** :

oAegon "the Elder" Targaryen ( _son_ ) – Married to his younger sister Helaena.

oHelaena Targaryen ( _daughter_ ) – Married to her older brother Aegon.

oAemond Targaryen ( _son_ )

oDaeron Targaryen ( _son/first cousin once removed-in-law_ )

• **Stepchildren-in-Law** :

oSer Laenor Velaryon ( _first cousin once removed-in-law/first stepson-in-law)_

oKing Daemon Targaryen ( _brother-in-law/second stepson-in-law)_

• **Child-in-Law:**

 _Daeron Targaryen_

oLilith Hightower ( _paternal first cousin once removed/daughter-in-law_ )

• **Step-Grandchildren:**

 _Rhaenyra I Targaryen_

oJacaerys Velaryon ( _step-grandson_ )

oLucerys Velaryon ( _step-grandson_ )

oJofferey Velaryon ( _step-grandson_ )

 _Rhaenyra I and Daemon Targaryen_

oAegon "the Younger" Targaryen ( _step-grandson/nephew through marriage_ )

oViserys Targaryen ( _step-grandson/nephew through marriage)_

oVisenya Targaryen ( _step-granddaughter/niece through marriage_ ) – Future granddaughter-in-law ever since she was betrothed to her half-cousin Maelor in 129 AC.

• **Grandchildren** :

 _Aegon and Helaena Targaryen_

oJaehaerys Targaryen ( _double grandson_ ) – Older twin brother of Jaehaera.

oJaehaera Targaryen ( _double granddaughter_ ) – Younger twin sister of Jaehaerys.

oMaelor Targaryen ( _double grandson)_

 _Aegon Targaryen and Alicent's First Chambermaid_

oUnnamed girl ( _bastard granddaughter_ )

 _Aegon Targaryen and a Flea Bottom Prostitute_

oUnnamed boy ( _bastard grandson_ )

Aegon Targaryen and the Female Harpist – The same harpist that entertained the Hightower's during Rhaenyra's coronation.

oUnnamed child ( _bastard grandchild_ ) – Sex unknown.

 _Aemond Targaryen and Margaret_

oLily Flowers ( _bastard granddaughter_ )

• **Cousins** :

oOrmund Hightower ( _first cousin_ )

oMaria Hightower ( _first cousin_ )

oConstance Hightower ( _first cousin)_

oJuliet Hightower ( _first cousin_ )

oBrynden Hightower ( _second cousin)_

oHobert Hightower ( _second cousin_

 ** _Lilith Hightower_**

• **Grandparents** :

oThurston Hightower ( _paternal grandfather/granduncle-in-law)_

oAlecia Redwyne ( _paternal grandmother/grandaunt through marriage-in-law)_

• **Parents** :

oOrmund Hightower ( _father/first cousin once removed-in-law)_

oPriscilla Bulwer ( _mother/first cousin once removed through marriage-in-law)_

• **Siblings** :

oGarmund Hightower ( _older brother/second cousin-in-law)_

oReginald Hightower ( _older brother/second cousin-in-law)_

oRegina Hightower ( _older sister/second cousin-in-law)_

• **Spouse** :

oDaeron Targaryen ( _second cousin/husband)_

• **Step-Cousin** :

 _Alicent Hightower_

oQueen Rhaenyra I Targaryen ( _step-second cousin/half-sister-in-law)_

• **Cousins** :

 _Ormund Hightower_

oBrandon Hightower ( _first cousin once removed/uncle-in-law)_

oElmer Hightower ( _first cousin once removed/uncle-in-law_ )

oAlicent Hightower ( _first cousin once removed/mother-in-law_ )

oSer Gwayne Hightower ( _first cousin once removed/uncle-in-law)_

oBrynden Hightower ( _second cousin once removed)_

oHobert Hightower ( _second cousin once removed)_

 _Alicent Hightower_

oAegon Targaryen ( _second cousin/brother-in-law)_

oHelaena Targaryen ( _second cousin/sister-in-law)_

oAemond Targaryen ( _second cousin/brother-in-law_ )


	10. Chapter 8: Sowing the Seeds

_**The Red Keep**_

 _ **131 AC**_

 _ **One month after Daeron and Lilith's Wedding**_

Even with the ornate glass windows closed, Rhaenyra felt that the royal study was very cold. She had ordered for larger tapestries to be hung on the walls for more warmth and had even begun wearing furs. These provided some comfort for the queen, but the chill was a constant tormentor especially to her hands, ears and nose. Nevertheless, she pressed on with her duties as queen albeit she now had one new problem that occurred every time she ventured into the study. Because of the chill, the ink in Rhaenyra's ink pots were often frozen and she had to have them thawed over a brazier before she could write.

The sudden drop in temperature had occurred shortly after the new year, surprising everyone in the Seven Kingdoms. As soon as it had begun, fall was now ending prematurely and making way for an early winter. The Citadel was scrambling about to figure out how their four year autumn prediction had failed. To add to their woes, the maesters now had to theorize on how long this sudden winter was going to last. But no matter what they did, the outcome was not going to be good.

131 AC was off on an inauspicious start.

Granaries were reportedly only half-full and fears of future famines began to spread. Rhaenyra had written letters to Pentos, Lorath, and Braavos asking to import grain from them to help support her people for the duration of the winter. She also ordered her reeves to ensure that the smallfolk did not become overtaken by their paranoia of starvation and slaughter all of their livestock or steal from the granaries or from other food stores. King Daemon had suggested to Rhaenyra that the punishment for stealing food during the upcoming winter should be the removal of the criminal's tongue and teeth so that they couldn't taste or eat properly again. Daemon also joked darkly that if the worst case scenario should happen, then Rhaenyra should make cannibalization legal.

Needless to say, neither of Daemon's suggestions were well received by his queen and her small council. However, they did debate his suggestion for punishing a food thief and settled on removing teeth. Tongue cutting was still reserved for silencing those who openly questioned the Velaryon Brothers paternity.

Besides fears of famine and social unrest, Rhaenyra also had another worrisome subject to deal with. A disease known as "winter fever" was starting to spread throughout Westeros. The winter fever first appeared on Maiden's Day and had steadily spread over the continent over the course of the year. The disease was particularly fatal to those of senior age, but it was not entirely uncommon for the fever to claim the lives of the young, although this was rare. Wanting to protect her family at the Red Keep, Rhaenyra ordered for bonfires to be burned around the castle gates and entrance courtyard so that the flames could purify the air of illness causing miasma.

Speaking of family, the queen worried for the wellbeing of her newborn grandchildren. After the birth of their children, Prince Jacaerys and Lady Baela invited their respective siblings to come live with them on Dragonstone so that their families could grow up together. Rhaenyra was originally against the idea since she wanted her granddaughter Alysanne living at the Red Keep since her cousin Baelor had to live on Dragonstone with his father, the Prince of Dragonstone. But now with the winter fever epidemic raging, Rhaenyra was glad that her grandchildren were not living on the mainland. The queen prayed daily in the Red Keep's chapel for Baelor and Alysanne's health and that the Seven would spare their young lives from the disease.

In lieu of grandchildren, Rhaenyra and Daemon doted on their daughter Visenya. Being their youngest child, Visenya was the apple of her parents eyes and she had them wrapped around her little finger even though she was just over a year old. Over the year, Visenya grew from a tiny newborn babe to a toddler with a head of short, straight silvery white hair who had just begun learning how to walk. Because of her busy schedule, the queen was not able to spend much time with Visenya. But when she found a spare moment, Rhaenyra would have Visenya's wet nurse, Mya, bring the princess to the royal study for a moment of mother-daughter bonding.

For most of the day, Visenya played with her half-cousin, and fiancé, Maelor in the castle nursery. Princess Helaena would join Mya in the nursery and would watch the children play with each other. For the most part, Maelor would play with his toy horse or top while Visenya would preoccupy herself with her rattle. During one humorous incident, Maelor, at the behest of his mother, tried to share one of his horses with Visenya. Intrigued by this new toy, Visenya gladly took it from Maelor and began chewing on it (she was teething), much to her cousin's dismay.

Thinking of babies soon led to another thought, marriage, marriages to be exact. With Jace and Luke married and beginning families of their, and with even Visenya engaged, Rhaenyra decided it was time to find wives for her three unmarried sons. Since Joff, Aegon, and Viserys were on the lower rungs on the line of succession, their bridal selection did not have to be too politically motivated, but they could still be beneficial for the Black Targaryen's. The queen was not going to spend too long looking for future daughter-in-laws from the nobility of the Known World. She was instead going to look to her own small council for help with that and she had already selected two candidates: Houses Beesbury and Darklyn.

Rhaenyra decided to choose from House Beesbury and Darklyn because of their part in the Black Conspiracy. She wanted to reward Lyman and Ser Steffon for helping to ensure her succession. Rhaenyra had already rewarded Wesley for his part in her father's plan. The queen had gifted her father's faithful manservant with the rank of a lesser nobleman, and in turn, a small manse in the capitol with servants to wait on Wesley. He had gone far and beyond his duties in service to his king, and because of it, Wesley was being richly rewarded.

Wesley was of course thrilled by this and he thanked his queen immensely for her kindness. When Wesley told his son about the news, Edmund was indifferent. Ever since the Black Conspiracy, the relationship between father and son had become strained. Edmund had avoided his father during the Conspiracy's aftermath, which hurt Wesley very much. When father and son finally did see each other again, there was tension in the air, and Wesley knew that nothing would ever be the same between him and Edmund again.

After Wesley's departure from the Red Keep, Rhaenyra began to focus on getting her sons married. One cold afternoon after a small council meeting, Rhaenyra commanded her Hand of the Queen, Master of Coin, and Lord Commander of the Queensguard to remain in the council chamber while the others left. Under the glare of the Valyrian sphinxes that guarded the chamber's doorway, Rhaenyra made her announcement.

"My lords, I am sure you are wandering why I have ordered you three to stay behind."

"It has crossed our minds." Lyman wheezed. Old age had begun to whittle away at the Master of Coin's voice, but his straightforwardness had remained as blunt as ever. Corlys and Steffon simply nodded. Taking note of Lyman, Rhaenyra continued.

"I shall get straight to it then." The queen looked each man in the eye, her elbows propped up on the table; ringed fingers intertwined. "I am looking for wives for my sons Jofferey, Aegon, and Viserys. Because of the Black Conspiracy, I have found it fit to reward you two, Lyman and Ser Steffon," the queen said while looking at the two men in question, "by having you select any female kin of yours to become my sons wives."

Lyman and Ser Steffon's eyes widened with surprise. Corlys was confused.

"Your grace?" Corlys began. "If you wanted to reward those two, why did you want me to stay behind?"

Rhaenyra looked up at her Hand. "For anymore suggestions for wives." She said curtly.

Steffon was the first to speak.

"Your grace, you are most kind." He said, his voice trembling with gratitude. The Lord Commander was excited. House Darklyn was one of House Targaryen's most loyal allies and they served the dragon kings by sending their sons to serve as knights in the Kingsguard. Now, there was a chance for a Darklyn daughter to add more prestige to their house by marrying a Targaryen prince.

Kreon Darklyn, Steffon's father, and the former Lord of Duskendale, had been married three times. Kreon's first wife only had Steffon, so through his other two wives, Kreon fathered six more children and had numerous grandchildren from them. There were granddaughters of course, but most of them were already married, engaged, or too young to be considered. But there was one who was available.

"I do have one mind for your youngest son your grace." Steffon began. "My half-niece Myrine."

"How old is she?" Rhaenyra asked.

"Six," Steffon answered, "two years younger than Prince Viserys. She is the youngest daughter of my half-brother Horace. He is also the Lord of Duskendale."

"What is she like, or don't you know?" The queen prodded.

"I do not know myself your grace, but from the letters my stepmother writes to me, her granddaughter is a quiet and sweet girl, just very shy."

"Good." Rhaenyra said. "Write to your brother about the marriage proposal Ser Darklyn. An engagement must be made quickly before the girl's father finds another betrothal for her."

"Yes your grace." Steffon said with a nod of his head.

The queen looked towards Lyman. He seemed to be staring off into space.

"Lyman?" The queen asked. The Master of Coin did not say anything. "Lord Lyman?" Rhaenyra called out, her voice a little louder and it echoed throughout the chamber. The volume snapped Lyman out of his stupor and he looked at his queen with wide eyes.

"Y-yes your grace?" He stammered, his wrinkled hand over his heart.

"Do you have any female kin in mind for marriage?"

"Yes I do." Lyman began. "My oldest great-grandniece, Nell. She is the eldest grandchild of my nephew Liam. From what he has told, Nell is a true lady and is the treasure of her parents."

Rhaenyra was liking the sound of Nell so far. Before she could say anything, Lyman interjected.

"However, Nell is six and ten, three years older than Prince Jofferey."

"Is there anyone else closer in age?" Rhaenyra asked. Lyman shook his head.

"I am afraid not your grace. Nell's first younger sister is eight, and the other two are younger than that. Her female cousins are also too young as well."

"I see." The queen said with a seemingly resigned tone.

"Pardon me your grace," Lyman began, "but is Nell's age really that much of an issue?"

"No," the queen said briskly, "not at all, but it will come as a surprise to Jofferey. He's been taught since childhood that he will most likely be married to someone younger than him. He will get it over though I am sure. And besides, it is better for him to marry someone who is three years his senior than one who is thirteen or even, gods forbid, thirty years older. All I care about is that his wife will treat him well."

Lyman nodded. "Understandable your grace. I will send out a raven at once to Honeyholt."

"Good." The queen replied.

"What of Aegon the Younger your grace?" Steffon asked.

"I will discuss that with Corlys." Rhaenyra said. "Both you and Lyman can go now. Thank you for your time."

The two men got up and left. After they were gone, Rhaenyra turned to her Hand of the Queen.

"Corlys," she began, "do you have anyone in mind that would be good for Aegon?"

"Well," Corlys grunted, swallowing phlegm, "just like Lord Beesbury, I too have great-grandnieces. Two to be exact. They are Cordylion's daughters: Daenaera and Gael."

"How old are they?"

"Well," Corlys narrowed his eyes in thought as he searched his memory. "Gael is a year old, but her older sister will be three on the third moon."

Rhaenyra shook her head.

"Hmm… Too young."

"Yes I know Rhaenyra, but-"

"Daenaera is too young." Rhaenyra stated bluntly. "My son just turned ten. I am sorry Corlys, but I do not want Aegon to wait for his fiancée to grow up. Do you know of anyone else? Someone a little closer to his age?"

Although disappointed, Corlys began thinking of other girls that he knew who could become Prince Aegon the Younger's wife. His mental digging struck gold.

"Yes, there is one." He said. "Thea Celtigar."

"Thea Celtigar?" the queen repeated. "Kin to my Master of Ships?"

"Yes, she is Bartimos's daughter, his only child in fact. She is only a year younger than Aegon." Corlys's eyes lit up and a smile formed on his face. It was the look of a man who had just received a great epiphany. Rhaenyra gave her Hand of the Queen a bemused look.

"Corlys?" She asked with a concerned tone.

"Besides being of Valyrian descent, Thea has royal ancestry."

"Royal? How so?" Rhaenyra inquired, interested in an explanation.

"On her father's side, Thea is the great-great-granddaughter of Edwell Celtigar, the second Hand of the King to Maegor the Cruel. Her maternal great-great-grandmother is Elinor Costayne, one of King Maegor's Black Brides."

Maegor the Cruel was the second son of Aegon I, his only child with his elder sister-wife Visenya. The third Targaryen king became known as the "Cruel" for his brutality towards the Poor Fellows and Warrior's Sons during the Faith Militant Uprising, kinslaying, and his passion for violence and bloodshed in general during his chaotic six year reign. Maegor was also infamous for having six wives, not for marrying them one at a time, but being married to them in polygamous unions. Just like with the soldiers of the Faith, Maegor was also ruthless towards his queens, with his first three wives being executed either on his command or by his own hand for crimes both real and imagined. Since the first set of three women were unable to give their king a living heir, Maegor decided to marry three more women on the one condition that they had had children from previous marriages; proof of their fertility.

These three unfortunate mothers were married to Maegor in a single ceremony, becoming his "Black Brides." Elinor Costayne was the king's youngest wife at age nineteen, and was already a mother of three. In order to marry Elinor, Maegor had her first husband, Ser Theo Bolling, tried and found guilty of treason, and then executed all on the same day. Queen Elinor did become pregnant by Maegor, but she had been poisoned by Maegor's jealous third wife, Tyanna of Pentos, and she gave birth to a stillborn child that was eyeless and possessed two small wings. Elinor would be one of two women to outlive their cruel husband, the other being Princess Rhaena Targaryen, Maegor's half-niece.

Elinor was also the one who found Maegor dead on the Iron Throne after his apparent suicide. Rumor had it that the Black Bride had killed the king to avenge both herself and Theo. Queen Elinor's contemporary, Edwell Celtigar, had originally offered his two young daughters to Maegor when he was looking to marry again. Before Maegor's death, Edwell resigned as Hand of the King and he fled back home to Claw Isle as the Seven Kingdoms began to rise up against their vicious king. Rhaenyra was quite impressed with Thea's family history.

"Really? That is an impressive bloodline for sure." The queen finally said. "Too bad both her ancestors were both connected to Maegor. So her mother is from House Bolling? A descendent of Elinor and her first husband?"

"Yes, Lady Adela hails from that house and is a direct descendent from the former queen herself." Corlys then added another interesting bit of information about Thea's background. "Also, Thea's paternal grandmother was from Qarth."

"How interesting." Rhaenyra said.

If it were not for Thea's ancestry, Rhaenyra would still be interested in having Thea as a daughter-in-law because of her Valyrian heritage. House Celtigar had followed the Targaryen's and Velaryon's from Valyria twelve years before the Doom centuries earlier. While the families laid new roots at their respective island homes of Dragonstone and Driftmark, the Celtigar's made their new home on Claw Isle, an island in the Narrow Sea that was closer to the shores of the northern region of the Crownlands. Unlike the Targaryen's and Velaryon's, who intermarried amongst themselves to retain their pure Valyrian heritage, the Celtigar's married outside of their family. Because of their diluted bloodline, the Celtigar's were seen as the lesser of the three surviving Valyrian families.

For obvious reasons, there had not been a marriage between a Celtigar and a Targaryen for centuries. Marrying Aegon, who was descended from two distant female ancestors from House Velaryon, to Thea Celtigar would finally unite all three of the only Valyrian families in the Known World. Pleased that she had found her third daughter-in-law, Rhaenyra dismissed her Hand and ordered a servant to summon Bartimos to her study. Later when the Master of Ships arrived, Rhaenyra told him about her marriage proposal between her fourth son to his daughter. Thrilled that such a powerful match had become available to him, Bartimos immeately accepted the proposal and as soon as he was dismissed, Bartimos went to write a letter to his family back at Claw Isle.

Three ravens would depart from the Red Keep that afternoon, each of them bearing the exciting news to the strongholds of Honeyholt, Claw Isle, and Duskendale. Rhaenyra heard one of the ravens from her window cawing as it flew off. Pleased with herself about setting up the betrothals, the queen took a golden goblet from Jaehaerys's hands and sipped its contents; mulled red wine spiced with cinnamon and sweetened with two spoonfuls of honey; Rhaenyra's favorite. The wine was warm, saccharine from the honey, with notes of the cinnamon's mellow yet subtly piquant flavor washing over the queen's tongue like a warm wave. Warm and sweet, just like Rhaenyra's latest accomplishment as queen.

 ** _The fires burning around the Red Keep to ward off sickness was inspired by a real event that took place during the Black Death in the 14th century. The contemporary pope at the time, I can't remember his name, had bonfires burning around his throne outside in the Vatican's courtyard to purify the air and to protect His Holiness from catching the plague. Back then, before the discovery of germs and how they could spread, it was believed that disease was caused by miasma (derived from the Greek meaning "bad air"), and that sweet smells or purifying the air (using incense or in this case fire) would prevent people from getting sick. The miasma theory was created by, ironically enough, Hippocrates; the Father of Medicine and the namesake of the Hippocratic Oath. Miasma aside, the bonfires worked since they kept away the rats that were infested with the fleas carrying the bubonic plague._**


	11. Chapter 9: The Princess of Honeyholt

**_Honeyholt_**

Winter was a dreary season for House Beesbury. Their gardens, when during the warmer seasons, were awash with the colors and fragrance of flowers and buzzed with the sound of bees as they collected nectar, became a graveyard of brown grass, shriveled weeds, and barren trees. Other then the occasional bone-chilling wind, the gardens were silent like a tomb. The bees had sequestered themselves in their hives to stay warm and hibernate for the winter, meaning no more honey for their human keepers. Just like their bees, the members of House Beesbury were cooped up inside their castle.

The hallways were frigid, and the servants wore thick wool cloaks and stuffed their shoes with straw to keep warm as they went about doing their daily tasks. The hearths in every major room were lit and dutifully tended to to ensure warmth and comfort. Nobody went outside unless they had to; such as to collect water from the well or taking care of the horses, castle livestock or poultry. The unfortunate castle guards that patrolled Honeyholt's battlements wore gloves and scarves to try and stave off the cold. Everyone's thoughts were on staying warm and the return of spring.

However, for one Beesbury, music was her foremost thought at the moment.

Nell Beesbury was inside one of Honeyholt's solars with her younger sister Allison, and their cousin Sonja. Seated by a fireplace, Nell was teaching her female kin how to play the lute. The lute was Nell's favorite instrument and she was talented musician and singer. The sound of Nell's music was heard daily by Honeyholt's inhabitants, and occasionally, her singing as well. But today no songs were to be sung, just a simple lesson on how to manipulate the lute's strings.

"Who would like to try it?" Nell asked after she had finished a demonstration.

Allison and Sonja looked at each other, hoping to see the other go first. They then looked back at Nell, before Allison finally spoke up.

"I will." She said. Her older sister smiled.

"Good." Nell said, and she got up and gave her prized lute to Allison. She guided Allison's hands into the proper position to hold the lute before she began. The young girl looked down at the instrument and she genlty placed her fingers at the center of the lute, on the strings that were directly above the hole where the resonating chamber was located. Nell saw what her sister was doing and quickly stepped in to correct her.

"No, not there Alli." She said gently. Nell then pushed her sister's hand down a little. "There, now try."

Now in the proper position, Allison gently plucked the strings. A slight pitch radiated from the movement. It sounded nothing like what Nell produced, which was gentle and soothing. Nervous, Allison looked up at her sister, who encouraged her, "Go on, continue." Nodding, Allison did as told as she did her best to emulate her sister's musical talent.

Nell was the pride and joy of House Beesbury. She was a proper lady; possessing great etiquette and poise, and was skilled in sewing and embroidery as well as music. The firstborn child of her parents, Robert Beesbury and Jeyne Cuy, Nell was the apple of their eye, and she was used as an example to her younger sisters and female cousins on how a noblewoman should be and act. Besides her sister Allison, Nell had two other younger sisters: Olyve and Ela, and three brothers: Philip, Thore, and Aubert.

At age sixteen, Nell was now ready to be married off. Her father had been receiving many marriage proposals from many noble houses from the Reach like the Webber's, Merryweather's, and Costaynes; including a few from the Riverlands as well, like Houses Butterwell and Frey. So far, Robert had not settled on any potential son-in-law. He had been hoping to secure a match between Nell and Garmund Hightower, the heir to the Beesbury's overlord, House Hightower. Unfortunately, the relationship between the Hightower's and their bannermen had become strained ever since the Black Conspiracy thanks to the participation of Robert's granduncle, Lyman.

This tension was further compounded by Alicent Hightower's past slandering of the reputation of Ser Oscar Beesbury when Viserys I Targaryen was looking for a husband for his daughter. For obvious reasons, Robert's offer of Nell's hand in marriage to Garmund went unanswered by the Lord of the Hightower. Nell wasn't worried about not getting married however. Her mother had told her that it usually took about a year for a match to be made for a woman Nell's age and that she had a ways to go before she could be considered a spinster. She just hoped that her father would find a good man for her, something she was sure of but still nervous about.

In the meantime, Nell spent her days socializing with her family, sewing, or playing her lute and singing. And now, she was focusing on teaching Allison and Sonja how to play the lute. So far, Allison was faltering but was still trying. After she finished, it was Sonja's turn to play. Unlike her cousin, Sonja was a fast learner and she was able to pluck a decent tune from the lute, making Allison jealous. Shortly after Sonja had finished, the door to the solar opened, and a servant walked in.

"A thousand pardons miladies." The servant began before turning to face Nell. "Lady Nell, your lord grandfather and father would like to see you in the study. They said it was important."

Nell's eyes widened and she quickly got up.

"I see." She said. "Please take Allison and Sonja to see Aunt Ellyn in her bedchamber. My mother will be there. And after you do that," Nell gently took back her lute from Sonja and gave it to the servant, "please return this to my bedchamber. You can lay it on my bed."

The servant nodded her head, and she let Nell go on ahead of her out the door. Nell drew her fur lined cloak closer to herself to stay warm as she made her to her grandfather's study. She wondered what they wanted to see her about, her father and grandfather. Could it have been about a marriage engagement? Had her father finally found someone for her?

Due to her brisk pace, Nell soon arrived at the door to the Lord of Honeyholt's study. Knocking on it and announcing it was her, Nell let herself in when she was commanded to enter. The study was warm and cozy, and Nell's grandfather and father were seated inside, the horn window behind Lord Liam latched tightly shut.

"Have a seat Nell." Her grandfather said.

Nell did as told and she took a seat by her father. She noticed that her grandfather and father looked very jovial. Before she could vocally remark on it, Lord Liam spoke.

"I am sure you are wondering as to why you were summoned here my dear." He said. "I can assure you it is nothing to worry about. In fact, your father and I have some very good news to share with you."

"What is it grandfather?" Nell asked, her curiosity peaked.

Liam held up a small role of parchment in his hand.

"A raven arrived this morning with this letter. It had our heraldry stamped on the wax seal."

"It was written by your great-great-uncle Lyman, Nell." Robert spoke. Liam gave his oldest son an annoyed look for interrupting.

"Yes," Liam began anew, "my uncle Lyman had written this and its contents are exciting."

"Please tell me, I really want to know." Nell asked.

Liam looked at his son, passing the torch of the conversation to him.

"Nell darling," Robert began. He reached over and placed his hand over his daughter's, "Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen has offered her third born son to be married to any female member of our house, and Lyman suggested you."

All time seemed to stop, and Nell became as still as a statue. She couldn't even speak. Her father continued, now with a great grin on his face.

"I have written a letter saying that I accept the proposal and have sent it off to King's Landing by raven. You are going to be engaged to Prince Jofferey Targaryen, Nell. Is that not exciting?"

Her father squeezed her hand with excitement. Nell, still in shock, could only nod and say yes. A prince, she was going to be married to a prince, an even better match than to one with the Heir to the Hightower. The shock soon faded and Nell began asking questions. She had heard of Prince Jofferey; he was the queen's youngest son from her first husband, and that he had fought in the Burning of the Narrow Sea on the back of his dragon. Other than that, Nell knew nothing about him.

"How old is Jofferey?"

Liam looked at his uncle's letter again before answering.

"He is thirteen, three years younger than you my dear. That's not bad. I married your grandmother when I was fifteen, and her twelve."

"What is he like?"

"We do not know my dear." Liam said.

"Never heard any distasteful rumors about him my sweet." Robert added. "And that's a good thing."

"I see." Nell said with a smile. She was pleased with the betrothal, but a little put off by her fiancé's young age. Nell did not want to look a gift horse in the mouth, so she kept quiet about her minor displeasure. Liam leaned back in his chair with a content look on his face.

"Never in my lifetime did I think that I would live to see one of my granddaughters marry into House Targaryen. I daresay that not even Ellyn Ever Sweet ever dreamed that such great fortune would ever befall our house. You will bring glory to our house Nell." Liam said proudly.

"And put us one rank above those damn Hightower's." Robert added with malicious pleasure. Liam nodded in agreement, and Nell gently patted her father's hand with her free one to settle him.

The news of Nell Beesbury's engagement to Prince Jofferey Targaryen was announced that afternoon to the whole family. To celebrate, Nell's brothers and uncles went out into the forest to hunt for deer and boar so that the household could feast on fresh game meat that night. A few days later, another letter, this time stamped with House Targaryen's sigil arrived bearing the news that Nell and Jofferey were due to be married within four months time. The Lord of Honeyholt had the maester send out ravens to the other noble houses of the Reach to spread the news about the upcoming royal wedding. Many wrote back expressing congratulations for Nell, while House Hightower responded with silence.

During the first two months, Honeyholt buzzed, no pun intended, with activity. Lady Jeyne had summoned tailors and weavers to take her daughter's measurements and to make her wedding gown. It was to be made of sable silk and cloth of gold, House Beesbury's colors. Meanwhile, Robert was busy organizing Nell's dowry. The Beesbury's did not own gold mines like the Lannister's or lord over a major trade port like the Hightower's, but they made due with some gold, jewels, and exquisitely woven tapestries, and although not as glamorous as precious metals or gemstones, Robert included some jars of House Beesbury's prized honey that had been harvested from the hives during the last days of summer months earlier.

At the end of the second month, House Beesbury departed for King's Landing. It was both an exciting and heartbreaking day for Nell. Exciting because she was leaving to marry a prince and live at the royal court, and heartbreaking because Nell was leaving her home, where she was born and raised; most likely forever. Saying farewell to the family members that were staying behind, Nell's uncle Alan, his wife Ellyn Mooton, and her four cousins; Sonja, Margaery, Alecia, and newborn Arthur, was a difficult thing to do and it was a bittersweet affair. Before stepping into the wheelhouse, Nell took one long, last look at Honeyholt.

Her lips quivered, and a hard, hot lump formed in her throat. So that the servants and knights would not see her tears, Nell quickly ducked into the wheelhouse. Jeyne, who riding with Nell, did her best to comfort her daughter as they began their long journey to the capitol. Seventeen years earlier, Jeyne went through the same thing Nell was now going through; leaving her family seat of Sunhouse to begin her married life at Honeyholt amongst strangers. But no matter how much she comforted Nell, it did not make the pain of the eventual separation from family hurt any less.

It was to be a long journey. The wedding party was to traverse eastward through the Reach, and then into the Stormlands before reaching the Crownlands via the Kingsroad. Besides the great trek, there was also the concern of winter weather like blizzards and freezing rain. However, land routes were the only option available to the Beesbury's. The closest seaport was Oldtown, and for obvious reasons, the Beesbury's did not want to consort with the Hightower's to secure a ship for an even longer voyage from west to east via rounding Dorne.

The wedding party steeled itself for what was ahead, praying that the gods would be merciful and only let heavy snow fall on the North instead of on their path. Their prayers were answered for the most part. The party was able to make it through the Stormland border seeing only flurries. However, even with the cold weather, the Stormlands were plagued by a storm of a different kind; blizzards. A massive one struck the region while the Beesbury's were making their way through the middle of the Stormlands.

The snow was piled up so thick, that the wheelhouses could not go any further, and Liam sent out some of his knights to go look for the closest hamlet or castle to ask for shelter. One knight came back with a grand escort of other knights and five fine horses. The shields and surcoats possessed by the knights were scarlet with ten black pellets dotting it; the sigil of House Cole. The Beesbury's were apprehensive about this host due to their unsavory past with the Blacks. To make things even more tense, the host was led by none other than Ser Criston Cole himself.

Nell's brothers swarmed the windows of their wheelhouse to get a look at the famous knight. It was an amusing sight to see fifteen year old Philip and twelve year old Thore acting like excited little boys. Six year old Aubert, who was taking a nap on his mother's lap, woke up and tiredly asked what was going on. When told who had come to rescue them from the snow, Aubert all but bounded off from his mother's embrace and crammed himself between his older brothers to get a good look of the famous knight through the woven screen window. Muffled voices could be heard coming from outside.

"What is going on out there?" Jeyne asked her sons. Nell leaned forward to hear better.

"Father and grandfather are out there talking to Ser Cole." Philip said. "Father just said what a surprise this is to have him come to our aid."

"And," Philip interjected, "Ser Cole is saying that his lord cousin has invoked guest right and wishes to offer shelter for the bride of Prince Jofferey Targaryen and her family until the weather becomes more favorable for us."

"And they're bringing horses over." Little Aubert said.

"I think those are for us." Philip said, noting the empty saddles upon the backs of the steeds.

Someone knocked on the wheelhouse door, startling everyone inside. Jeyne opened the door to find a Beesbury knight standing outside.

"My lady," he said as he bowed his head, "House Cole wishes give shelter-"

"We know, we heard." Philip interrupted, which in turn resulted in him getting chastised by his mother for his rudeness. The knight seemed unfazed by it and continued.

"I see. Then you must know that the horses were brought over to bring Lady Nell and some of her family to Cole Keep. Lord Cole's holdings are small, so he does not have enough horses for everyone. The animals will be brought back to get everyone else."

The knight extended his hand to Nell.

"My lady, would you like for me to escort you to your horse?"

"Certainly, Ser." Nell said and she took the man's metal gloved hand. The snow was piled nearly knee high, and Nell had to lift up her skirts in order to walk. To make it easier for her, the knight let Nell walk in the footprints he had made when he was walking over to their wheelhouse. A squire from House Cole brought a lovely chestnut horse over for Nell; both the boy and the man helped her up on the beautiful equine.

Her lady mother and siblings were given the other horses, the little ones shared a saddle with their big brothers or mother. Ser Cole guided his cousin's guests back to Cole Keep. During the journey there, Ser Cole did not say a word to anyone. His cousin was more amiable however. Lord Roger Cole greeted his guests warmly and brought them into the warm confines of his castle to partake in bread and salt as was custom.

That night, the Coles and Beesburys supped on a simple but filling banquet. Just like before, Criston did not say much, and when the topic of conversation went to Nell's upcoming wedding, the knight got up and left; his excuse being that he had had his fill and was going to retire to his chambers. The Beesburys stayed at Cole Keep for two weeks. During the final week of their visit, the temperature warmed up slightly and began to melt the snow. When the roads were clear enough, the bridal party took their leave, but not before extending their warmest thanks to their host.

The entourage reached the final leg of their journey when they reached the Kingsroad by Storm's End, the seat of House Baratheon. Thankfully, there were no more blizzards, but the group had to contend with sleet. The group pressed on, and soon the family reached the Crownlands. From the border, it took the Beesburys three days to reach the capitol. Greeting them at the city gates was a host of Targaryen knights.

The ensemble led the Beesburys into the capitol. The streets were crowded with curious onlookers who wanted to try and catch a glimpse of the bride from Honeyholt. House Beesbury had attended the Queen's Coronation Tourney nearly two years earlier, so this wasn't their first time visiting King's Landing. However, it was the first time for Olyve and Ela. In their wheelhouse with their septa and other big sister, Allison, the girls looked out the window in awe at the crowds, the crammed buildings, and marketplaces.

Everyone of course hoped to see a dragon or two, but there none to be had.

When the entourage began to climb Aegon's Hill, Nell's heart began to beat faster. She was now moments away from reaching the Red Keep, her new home. The gate opened, and the family was led into the entrance courtyard. After the wheelhouses had come to a stop, the travel weary family spilled out onto the courtyard. The air was cold, and rife with the faint aroma of the city: baking bread, excrement, and sweat.

Greeting the family at the courtyard were two royal ushers dressed in crimson and sable. The men escorted the family and their household into the castle and to the throne room. A third man met them before the throne room doors, and when they opened, he announced with a booming voice, "Your grace, House Beesbury."

Soon the eyes of the royal court were upon Nell and her family as they entered the throne room, but Nell felt that the gazes were all focused on her. It was somewhat unnerving, but Nell did allow it show and she kept her posture and grace as she walked behind her parents and grandfather. Soon, they reached the Iron Throne. Queen Rhaenyra looked down upon her visitors from the sharp, lofty seat; her family flanking her on both sides. The silver-gold hair of the Targaryens glimmered in the winter sunlight to a somewhat dazzling degree.

The whole royal family was present for Prince Jofferey and Lady Nell's wedding. Prince Jacaerys and Lucerys had arrived a few days earlier at the Red Keep with their wives and children in tow. Both four months old, Baelor and Alysanne clung to their mothers chests and looked around with curious purple eyes. Most surprisingly of all, Princess Rhaena sported a two month pregnant belly. It seemed that although happy with his daughter, Prince Luke wanted a son, and had gotten his wife pregnant again just two months after Alysanne's birth.

Nell dwelled on the uncomfortable fact that Rhaena was two years younger than her and was already pregnant with her second child. Besides the grandchildren, the royal family also had two new family members who had arrived four months earlier, the fiancées of Princes Aegon the Younger and Viserys: Thea Celtigar and Myrine Darklyn. Also in attendance were the hostage Green Targaryen's: Aegon the Elder, Helaena, and their three children. Amongst the royal family, Nell caught a glimpse of her future husband. He was standing by his expecting stepsister/sister-in-law, Rhaena.

Before Nell could have a full good look at her royal fiancé, the crier presented the queen, and everyone bowed before her. The queen's voice then boomed across the throne room like a war horn.

"Welcome to my court House Beesbury." Rhaenyra looked over the heads of Lord Robert and Lady Jeyne. "Show me Lady Nell. I would like to see her."

At the queen's request, Liam stepped aside while his son and daughter-in-law parted. Now at the center of everyone's attention, Nell stepped forward and curtsied respectfully before the throne. Rhaenyra carefully scrutinized Nell and she was pleased with what she was seeing. She appeared to be plump, but it was most likely because she was big-boned; her hair was brown and tied in a braid, her face was oval shaped, and, according to Lyman, her eyes were amber in color. Rhaenyra's Master of Coin had told her that amber eyes were a trait of House Beesbury, the color of the honey they collected from their skeps.

Nell respectfully kept her head down as she felt her future mother-in-law look her over. It was as if she were a prized cut of meat being examined by a prospective buyer at the market. The moment only took a minute, but it felt like more than that, when the queen finally spoke.

"You all have had such a long journey. My servants will guide you to your chambers to rest. Lady Nell."

Nell looked up. "Yes, your grace?" She said with bravado.

"Do you feel that you will be up to meeting my son Jofferey after supper this evening? He would like to meet you."

Even though she felt tired, Nell wanted to make a good impression.

"Yes my lady."

The rest of the afternoon, Nell rested in her guest chambers, and that evening after a light supper, she was escorted to the solar in the Tower of the Hand by the royal seneschal. It was a small room with a tapestry depicting Aegon I and Balerion landing on what would be the future site of the capitol, long windows, and some simple furnishings like a dresser, small table, and some chairs and the like; a great fire from a fireplace lit up the room with its vibrant, pulsing, orange light. Waiting for Nell was none other than Prince Jofferey Targaryen. When he saw that his fiancée had arrived, Jofferey immediately stood up from his chair. Nell looked at her future husband; her turn to look over someone.

Joff appeared to four inches shorter than her (Nell is 5'5), had short brown hair, dark eyes, and a pug nose; non-Targaryen features that had been the source of endless rumors regarding the paternity of Jofferey and his older brothers. He was rigid at first, standing straight as a fence post and looking directly at Nell. The prince looked nervous. Without a word, he rounded his chair and he took Nell's hand in his and kissed it.

"A pleasure to meet you at last Lady Nell Beesbury." Jofferey said, doing his best to hide his nervousness. "You are much lovelier in person."

Nell blushed. "Thank you, your grace. You are most kind."

Jofferey blushed as well and he gestured towards the chairs. "Shall we sit?"

Nell nodded and agreed, and the two of them went over and sat down. The seneschal moved into the shadows of the room and watched over the couple as they began to bond.

"Would you like some hippocras my lady?" Joff asked. The seneschal moved forward but Nell politely declined the offer. The two sat in silence for about a minute before they resumed speaking. The conversation was mostly Jofferey asking Nell about Honeyholt and her family, and vice versa with Nell.

Mentioning Jofferey's heroics during the Wylde Rebellion caused the thirteen year old prince to chuckle.

"It is most kind of you my lady to refer to me as a hero, but the truth is, I am not deserving of the title."

"How so my lord?" Nell asked, genuinely curious about Jofferey's self-deprecation.

"I just followed my older brother Luke around on dragonback. He deserves to be called hero, along with my other brother, our stepfather, and grandmother." Joff smiled sadly, looking into the fire.

The prince's mood reminded Nell of when her youngest brother Aubert was sad when he did not do well during training, and her sisterly instincts kicked in. She reached out and gently touched her fiancé's right forearm. Nell could feel the prince flinch under her touch. Regardless, she kept her hand on Jofferey and she spoke with a soothing tone.

"You should not be so morose my lord. The fact that you went into battle is brave enough, especially on dragonback, and you fought to preserve your mother's claim. And you did this all at the age of ten and three. How many men can claim such a feat?"

Jofferey's smile ceased being morose and he looked his fiancée in the eyes. He looked happy and his eyes were filled with adoration. Now it was Nell's turn to flinch. During the rest of the evening, the two talked some more. Jofferey was intrigued by Nell's hobby of playing the lute and singing, and she promised to play for him sometime after their wedding. Shortly afterwards, the two retired to bed.

The following day, the wedding was held. The ceremony was going to be small in comparison to the double wedding held for the Velaryon Brothers and Targaryen Sisters; the queen wanted to conserve funds for any situation that could arise during the long winter, and not many noble families were able to travel to King's Landing for the nuptials, but Nell and Joff did not mind. They were married in the Red Keep's chapel. Nell was a sight to see as she walked down the aisle in her resplendent gown, her wedding cape bearing the heraldry of House Beesbury: black and yellow stripes with three beehives decorating the middle sable bar. Jofferey looked handsome and mature in his clothes, cloth of silver and green, colors in opposition to his bride's garments.

When the two said their vows, Nell noted that Jofferey said his with confidence. When he removed her maiden cape and replaced it with one bearing the Targaryen dragon, Jofferey was in control of his hands; no visible shaking was seen. It was when they kissed that Nell noticed that her prince's nervousness still lingered, but she didn't mind. Thankfully, nobody else noticed, and they cheered on the couple as they walked away from the altar hand in hand. It would be the beginning of a good life for both Jofferey and Nell.

 ** _A good begining for Joff and Nell isn't it? I came up with the idea for members of House Beesbury to have amber eyes since that can also be the color of honey. Also, Ellyn Ever Sweet was the legendary founder of their house. The next two chapters will take place four months earlier. I will explain the events of 131 AC in Chapter 12's begining paragraph._**


	12. House Beesbury circa 131 AC

_**Nell Beesbury**_

• **Grandparents** :

oLiam Beesbury (paternal grandfather) - Lyman Beesbury's nephew. 

oKatrina Rhysling (paternal grandmother)

• **Parents** :

oRobert Beesbury (father)

oJeyne Cuy (mother)

• **Siblings** :

oSer Philip Beesbury (younger brother)

oSer Thore Beesbury (younger brother)

oAllison Beesbury (younger sister)

oSer Aubert Beesbury (younger brother)

oOlyve Beesbury (younger sister)

oEla Beesbury (younger sister)

• **Aunts/Uncles:**

oSer Alan Beesbury (uncle)

Ellyn Mooton (aunt through marriage)

oSer Oscar Beesbury (uncle)

Alysanne Blackwood (aunt through marriage) – Between 130 and 131 AC, Liam was securing the match between his youngest son Oscar to Alysanne Blackwood. In the canon storyline, Alysanne was the second wife of Cretan Stark, and the mother of his four daughters.

• **Cousins** : **- More cousins will follow later on. **

Ellyn Mooton

oSonja Beesbury (first cousin)

oMargaery Beesbury (first cousin)

oAlecia Beesbury (first cousin) – Newborn.


	13. Chapter 10: The Princess of Claw Isle

**_Claw Isle_**

 ** _Four Months Earlier_**

The air smelled of both the sea and of pine sap. When it rained, the fragrance of the pines became sharper and more prominent, while the salty air became moist and heavy with its mineral aroma. Now with winter, the air was also tinged with cold, freezing the nostrils of those who breathed it in. But the inhabitants of Crackclaw Point would not have preferred it any other way. It was preferable to the scent of the capitol city, a glorified cesspool populated by beggars and whores.

In this region of the Crownlands, the people eked out a living through farming on the few acres of arable land that was available. In contrast to its more sophisticated southern neighbors, the inhabitants of Crackclaw Point were a more hardy bunch. The noble houses jealously guarded their territories, and xenophobia was rampant. Despite the hardscrabble nature of Crackclaw Point, its people were noted for their loyalty to House Targaryen. However, the feeling was not mutual with the royal family's Celtigar cousins.

House Celtigar is situated on the island of Claw Isle. Their dominion over Crackclaw Point is not recognized by the people there, and when the Celtigar's send out tax collectors, they usually return empty handed, but some never return at all. The reason why House Celtigar's authority is not taken seriously is that during Aegon's Conquest, the people of Crackclaw Point surrendered peacefully to Queen Visenya Targaryen. Because of this, Crackclaw Point did not have to swear loyalty to anyone else other than the Iron Throne. The only way House Celtigar held some sway over their people was through marrying the local nobility; diluting their Valyrian bloodline considerably by mixing it with blood from Houses Brune, Crabbe, and Hardy.

Despite picayune profits from tax collections, the Celtigar's were quite wealthy. In their stronghold's vaults were gold and other invaluable treasures their ancestors had brought over from Old Valyria prior to the Doom. During the reign of Jaehaerys I, House Celtigar's wealth doubled when Ser Phineon Celtigar collected more treasure during his voyages with Corlys Velaryon, and when he married the daughter of a spice merchant from Qarth. But to Phineon's son, the current Lord of Claw Isle, Bartimos Celtigar, his true treasure was not gold, ivory, or jewels. It was his only child, Thea Celtigar.

His fourth child by his wife Adela Bolling, Thea was also their only living offspring. After suffering from two stillbirths and one miscarriage, the birth of the healthy, living Thea in 121 AC was celebrated by the Lord and Lady of Claw Isle. Even though his only living child was a girl, Bartimos loved her very much and Thea never wanted for anything. Anything that is except for her father's company. Being the Master of Ships on Queen Rhaenyra's small council, Bartimos lived at the Red Keep, and he communicated with his family via letters.

When she was not with her mother when the latter was reading aloud one of Bartimos's letters, Thea busied herself by spending time with her cousins, Beatrice and Dorian. Lacking siblings of her own, Thea saw her cousins as her brother and sister, and the three were a close bunch. The two girls were often seen walking together on the battlements or on the beach if it was not too cold and as long as they were accompanied by a septa. There wasn't much to talk about but the two managed, their conversations ranging from what they liked and disliked about the day's lessons or new embroidery patterns they wanted to try, but lately the girls talked mostly about their newest interest, boys.

For hours on end, the girls would talk about the young males that worked at Claw Isle as stablehands or scullery boys, noting their finer features and what their positive and negative traits were. Right now, Thea and Beatrice were chatting about the blacksmith's new apprentice over some apple tarts they had filched from the castle kitchens, and were now enjoying in the comfort of Thea's room. The apprentice was the blacksmith's grandnephew from the mainland, and had been taken on because the old man wanted someone to continue his work when he would pass on. The boy, who appeared to be eleven, was quite handsome with black curly hair and brown eyes. When the lad noticed that he was being watched upon his arrival and had looked in the direction of the cousins, the girls took off back into the castle red and giggling madly.

"He looks like a Greyjoy doesn't he?" Beatrice remarked before taking a bite of her tart.

"He does." Thea said after swallowing her morsel. The apples were soft with a warm, sweet taste, and the crust was buttery and crunchy. "Except I think that the Greyjoy's have blue eyes instead of brown."

"Oh." Beatrice said softly. "Do you think he would look better if he had blue eyes instead of brown?"

"I think he would look lovely with any eye color." Thea answered. "They could be pink and he would still look handsome!"

Beatrice giggled at the visual with a mouthful of apple tart, and some of the crumbs spilled out of her mouth. This resulted in both of them laughing out loud. A knock at the door along with a voice calling out them was heard, and Thea and Beatrice stopped laughing so that they could hide their stolen pastries. The two hid their goodies under the cushions on the couch that they were sitting on at the foot of Thea's bed just as Septa Yilda made her way in. The holy woman immediately took note of the uncharacteristic silence being shared by the two girls and she gave them a suspicious look.

"What were you two doing?" The middle aged woman demanded with a stern tone.

"Nothing Septa Yilda." The cousins said together in unison. This caused the septa to chuckle.

"Nothing you say? I heard you two all the way down the hall. What was so special about the color pink that made you both cackle like a bunch of witches if you don't mind me asking?"

"It was about the blacksmith's apprentice." Beatrice said. Thea followed up on her cousin's response.

"We were both wondering what eye color would make him more handsome."

"I see." Yilda said with a soft smile, remembering the days from her girlhood when she was smitten with the opposite sex before she committed herself to the Faith. "Sorry to change the subjects my ladies, but something quite astounding has come up."

Thea and Beatrice were interested by the news.

"What happened?" Thea asked first.

Yilda focused her attention on Thea. "A letter arrived here just over an hour ago via raven. It was from your lord father Thea. He has some exciting news for you."

"What is it! What did my papa say?" Thea said, now sitting upright on the couch with Beatrice.

Yilda grinned, her teeth acting like an enamel barrier to prevent what she wanted to say from coming out.

"It is best that you hear it from your mother Thea." She finally said. "Come with me and I will escort you two to the solar where your mothers are."

"What about Uncle Adrianus?" Thea asked.

"He is preoccupied at the moment, but believe me my dear, he is quite excited about the news too."

The two girls all but hopped off the couch to follow the septa, but a look from Yilda prevented them from joining her at the door.

"Before we go ladies, please do remove the whatever plunder you have hidden under those pillows. It is most unladylike to hoard, let alone steal."

Disheartened at being caught by the eagle eyed septa, the two girls quietly removed the half-eaten apple tarts from their hiding places. Septa Yilda sighed and told the girls to finish their stolen treats before they left for the solar. The three walked briskly to the solar, with both Thea and Beatrice being excited to hear this mysterious news. Lady Adela and Beatrice'a mother, Vaeya Groon, were talking excitedly to each other when the door opened, and Septa Yilda brought their daughters inside. It was strange to see Aunt Vaeya so happy.

A great beauty, Vaeya hailed from a wealthy, but minor merchant family from Lys, and she possessed trademark Valyrian looks: long silver-gold hair that was braided at the temples, and purple eyes. Thea could tell that her aunt through marriage did not like living at Claw Isle due to her usually possessing a sullen, miserable look. Her marriage to Thea's uncle was also unhappy. Besides a fourteen year age gap between husband and wife (and rumors of adultery on Adrianus's part), the two could never agree on anything, and they constantly bickered whenever they were around each other. Thea could faintly remember a major argument that Uncle Adrianus had waged with his wife four years ago over Dorian's fostering.

Beatrice's older brother, Dorian, was the only heir to Claw Isle, and his father wanted to have him fostered at home by one of House Celtigar's knights. His mother on the other hand, did not like the idea of her son spending his entire life at Claw Isle, and she wanted Dorian to be fostered by her family in Lys. Shouting could be heard coming from Adrianus's study as husband and wife fought over the future of their son. Beatrice, who was only three at the time, would begin crying when she heard her parents fighting, and would cling to Thea or Dorian. Because he was Vaeya's husband, Adrianus got his way, but for months after the argument, the couple hardly spoke to one another out of anger.

Bartimos tried to help mend the rift between his younger brother and sister-in-law by offering to bring over a swordsman from Lys to help train Dorian; an offer Adrianus vehemently declined. Although he was against sending his son away, Adrianus acquiesced into sending Dorian off to Sweetport Sound to be fostered by House Sunglass, a noble family that lived along Blackwater Bay. This hypocritical act raised the ire of the flustered Vaeya, putting everyone who came into contact with the temperamental woman on edge. But now, Vaeya looked quite jubilant. She got up from her chair and she approached her daughter.

"Come along now sweetling, your aunt and cousin have something they need to discuss in private. Let's go outside for a walk."

Beatrice nodded silently and she let her mother herd her out of the solar. After Adela thanked Septa Yilda for brining her daughter to her, Yilda bowed her head and made her exit. Now it was just Adela and Thea inhabiting the solar. The Lady of Claw Isle gestured towards Vaeya's now empty chair. The scent of Aunt Vaeya's favorite perfume lingered in the air like a ghost; she often perfumed her hair, which was a Lyseni custom.

"Have a seat darling." She said to her daughter and she did as told, and she sat down in the still warm chair. Just like with Vaeya, Adela had an air of excitement about her.

"What is it mama?" Thea asked. "What did papa's letter say?"

"Darling…" Adela began. She suddenly got up from her chair and she walked over and kneeled before her only daughter, clasping both of Thea's hands in her own. "You know who Corlys Velaryon is don't you?"

Thea nodded. "Yes, he is the Hand of the Queen, and was grandfather's friend."

"Correct," Adela said, "and he because of that friendship your grandfather had with Lord Velaryon, Corlys has given us an opportunity that no one thought would ever happen."

"What?" Thea asked. Adela increased the grip on her daughter's hands.

"The queen is looking for wives for her three unmarried sons, and Corlys suggested you to be the bride of Prince Aegon the Younger." Adela said, her smile turning into a grin.

Thea blinked. Being nine years old, Thea knew what marriage meant and she was quite excited. Being married to a prince was a dream come true for most girls, both noble and common. The young girl tensed with excitement under her mother's touch.

"Your father accepted the proposal. You will be married to Aegon when you are old enough darling."

Seeing the look on her daughter's face caused the jubilant mother to embrace Thea warmly.

"My daughter, my only child, will one day marry a prince." Letting go of Thea to wipe away a tear, Adela looked her daughter in the eye again. "Did I ever tell you that your grandfather, my father, is the grandson of a queen?"

"No, really? Who was she?" Thea asked, completely surprised.

"Her name was Elinor Costayne," Adela replied, "and she was one of Maegor the Cruel's wives. You do not have any royal cousins from their line because Elinor never had a living child with that monster. My grandfather was Queen Elinor's oldest son by her first husband, Ser Theo Bolling." Fearing that her mentioning of Maegor may have unsettled her daughter, Adela gently squeezed her daughter's hand in comfort. "Do not worry darling, I am sure that the Younger Prince is a sweet lad.

Pay no heed to what I said about Maegor."

"It's alright mama." Thea said softly. Adela just smiled and embraced her only child again.

The next day, another letter arrived from King's Landing. This time, it was written by Queen Rhaenyra herself. It said that she was pleased that House Celtigar had accepted the betrothal and that the Master of Ships was quite jubilant about his daughter marrying her son. The wedding between Aegon and Thea was to be held six years after the initial engagement, when the prince and his fiancée would be sixteen and fifteen respectively. In the meantime, the queen stated that Thea was to serve as a companion for her half-niece, the seven year old Princess Jaehaera.

Serving alongside Thea would be Myrine Darklyn, Prince Viserys's fiancée. Also, Thea's mother would become a lady-in-waiting for the queen herself. It appeared that besides an arranging a marriage pact between his daughter and Aegon the Younger, he was also arranging the reunion of his family at the royal court. Claw Isle buzzed with excitement after the arrival of the royal letter. Three nights after the official betrothal announcement, House Celtigar celebrated their good fortune with a feast and they invited the other lords of Crackclaw Point to come.

As Thea happily supped on her favorite foods: boiled turbot with an herbed cream sauce and fruit and custard tarts, her uncle and the other lords toasted her as "Princess Thea." But while the Celtigar's were euphoric, the Crackclaw nobles were a little apprehensive about the engagement. The villages near Claw Isle did not recognize the authority of the Celtigar's, even with Bartimos serving as the Master of Ships for the queen. But now that his only daughter was engaged to a prince, the nobility feared that House Celtigar would use their new royal connections to try and finally subjugate Crackclaw Point and make everyone swear allegiance to them. This possibility was not lost on Adrianus Celtigar.

He was fiercely proud of his Valyrian heritage, and he wanted House Celtigar to gain the prestige and glamour that the Targaryens and Velaryons had. Ever since the establishment of the Targaryen Dynasty, the Celtigar's had tried to make a name for themselves in Westeros and to get closer to the royal family. Adrianus's great-grandfather was a Hand of the King, but he served during the reign of Maegor I Targaryen, so his actions were overshadowed by his sovereign's brutality. Ser Phineon Celtigar, Adrianus's father, brought great wealth to his family during his voyages with Corlys Velaryon, but this too was overshadowed, this time by a personal flaw. Phineon was a liar.

He was not a pathological liar though, but he was a fraud. Since his boyhood, all Phineon wanted to be was a knight, however, he did not have the skill for it. After he had accumulated more wealth through his adventures, Phineon bought his knighthood, and even held a knighting ceremony for himself at Claw Isle. Because of this, the former Lord of Claw Isle was known negatively as Phineon "the Liar." To add insult to injury, Phineon had died fourteen years earlier from a venereal disease he had gotten from a prostitute.

Despite his flaws, both Bartimos and Adrianus loved their father and they did have fond memories of him.

Now with his niece's royal betrothal, Adrianus hoped to finally bring House Celtigar out of the shadows of obscurity and to make them a notable item in the politics and intrigue of Westeros. There was only one downside however. During the early years of their children, both Adrianus and Bartimos had been planning on marrying cousins Dorian and Thea to each other. But since his niece was now engaged to Aegon the Younger, those marriage plans would now amount to nothing. It was bittersweet since Adrianus was looking forward to marrying Dorian to Thea, but it was mostly sweet since something even better came along.

Rhaenyra's letter also stated that she would be sending a ship to Claw Isle to collect her future daughter-in-law and lady-in-waiting, and that it was predicted to arrive roughly within a week. The guards on Claw Isle's battlements kept a sharp lookout for the ship, while servants scurried about the castle to pack Thea and Adela's belongings for their trip to their new home. The reality that she would not be living at Claw Isle anymore did not hit Thea until she watched the servants carry out chests that were filled with her clothes, shoes, and other personal sundry items. To ease their mutual nervousness, both Adela and Thea would practice royal etiquette and read letters they received from Bartimos and from House Bolling, Thea's maternal family; congratulating her on her betrothal. Beatrice joined her cousin and aunt through marriage during these sessions.

The impending separation of Beatrice from her cousin, and only friend, was a source of great distress for the young girl. It was hard for Thea as well. Beatrice was like the younger sister Thea had always wanted, and it was going to be difficult adjusting to life at the Red Keep without her. The two cousins began to spend more time together, even sharing a bed at night. During Thea's last night at Claw Isle, Beatrice cried into her cousin's chest as the former comforted her.

"I don't want you to go…" a lachrymose Beatrice had uttered repeatedly as she was held by her cousin. "I don't want you to go…"

Early the following morning, Adela and Thea got up, had one last breakfast with the family before finally going outside to board their ship. Beatrice and Thea hugged one last time, and tears began to flow. Mother and daughter waved to Adrianus and his family as their ship slowly began to depart from the dock. Thea kept waving to her cousin, and when one arm became tired, she waved with the other one. The two cousins continued waving to each other until they were both just specks on the horizon.

The journey was a slow one. It was freezing out on the deck, and Thea spent most of her time indoors inside her cabin with her mother. Every now and then, the two would go outside to get some fresh air, and would feel sorry for the sailors and deckhands who had to work in the frigid, salty air. The food did not make the voyage any easier either, with meals consisting mostly of hardtack and dried meat that was washed down with ale (Thea drank a watered down version). The excitement of meeting her fiancé when reaching King's Landing soon morphed into Thea desiring for better food when disembarking.

Roughly a week after leaving Claw Isle, the capitol city was spotted by the crow's nest. Thea and Adela came out onto the deck to watch their steady approach to the city docks. Their ship was not the only one arriving at that time. Another ship was sailing up through Blackwater Bay alongside the Celtigar's vessel. Just like with theirs, this ship's sails bore House Targaryen's heraldry.

"Who could that be?" Thea thought as she observed the ship sail towards the docks. She could see two figures watching their vessel move closer to the docks. It looked like a woman and a child, just like Adela and Thea.

Thea's curiosity about the ship was soon forgotten in favor of something else. A large crowd had gathered at the docks. As the ship got closer, Thea could see two wheelhouses, and two of three knights of the Queensguard on horseback. The knight who was standing at attention at the dock was with a woman who was wearing her dark hair in a bun, and a younger man who may have been his squire. They were both facing the other ship that was arriving alongside the Celtigar's.

Also standing at the dock was Thea's father, Bartimos Celtigar. Upon seeing her father, Thea began jubilantly waving to him with her smiling mother watching her. Bartimos could not contain his joy upon seeing his wife and only child, and he waved back to Thea. When they finally reached the dock, and the gangplank was lowered, Thea ran down the plank and into the arms of her father. It had been over a year since Thea had felt her father's embrace, and she relished the feeling of his warm, strong arms wrapping tightly around her.

"There's my little princess. How I've missed both you and your mother." Bartimos said. His embrace softened when he saw his Lady of Claw Isle walking down the gangplank. Taking hold of Thea's hand, the two walked over to greet Adela.

"My lady wife." Bartimos said and he took Adela's hand and kissed it. "It has been too long."

Like his brother and sister-in-law, there was a big age gap between Bartimos and Adela, with theirs being fifteen years. But unlike Adrianus and Vaeya, Bartimos and Adela have a happy marriage. When her father kissed her mother's hand, Thea heard some voices coming from behind and she looked over her shoulder. The Queensguard knight and woman were talking to a young girl who had disembarked from the other ship with a septa. She appeared to be younger than Thea, and had long, straight brown hair, and was wearing a dark magenta dress.

Thea could not help but notice the girl's behavior. Despite the adults talking to her, the girl was looking around nervously, her eyes dark with nervousness. She would tug at her skirt and shuffle her feet, her eyes looking from the adults, to her feet, and the horizon and back. When her eyes fell on Thea, the girl looked away quickly. Thea could not help but think that the girl was odd, but at the same time, she thought that it was the child's way of coping with her new surroundings.

Shortly afterwards, Bartimos led his wife and daughter to their wheelhouse. Flurries began to fall when the family was shut inside the carriage, and the driver urged his horses to move. Thea had the window seat and she opened the shutter to look out through the woven reed screen. She was amazed by the number of people, how close the buildings were in the streets, the noise, and the smells: sweat, sewage, dirty animals, and hot food being cooked, causing Thea's stomach to growl. The city scenes were so different from that of lonely Claw Isle, and Thea could not wait to write to Beatrice to tell her all about it.

As Thea looked out the window, Bartimos and Adela were catching up with each other. Thea felt her mother's hand on her shoulder, startling her from her daze.

"Sweetling, your father wants to talk to you." Thea looked from her mother to her father.

"Yes papa?"

"Are you excited my dear?" Bartimos asked. Thea nodded.

"Yep." She said, causing Bartimos to smile.

"I saw you looking at that girl who came off the ship from Duskendale. Do you know who she is?" Bartimos asked, and Thea shook her head. "That was Myrine Darklyn. She is the youngest daughter of the Lord of Duskendale, and the fiancée of Prince Viserys Targaryen."

"My betrothed's younger brother?" Thea said, and Bartimos nodded, confirming his daughter's answer as correct.

"You two will be seeing the queen in the throne room once we arrive at the Red Keep. Both your fiancés will be present. That is quite exciting is it not my dear?"

Thea nodded, but she felt nervous about it. Meeting her royal fiancé was one thing, being introduced to the queen in her court was another. Her father's letters had described the queen as curt, stubborn, and easy to anger. The pressure of making a good impression on the queen weighed down on Thea, increasing her anxiety. The rest of the ride continued on in silence for the rest of the way.

Approaching the Red Keep gates, Thea held her mother's hand, who gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Looking out the window as the wheelhouse rounded the courtyard, Thea was in awe of the great castle that loomed over her like a giant. The red sandstone that the keep had been built with stood out against the steel grey sky, like blood on a polished blade. The door opened, and a courteous servant helped Thea and Adela out first before Bartimos exited last. Behind the Celtigar's wheelhouse was the one containing the Darklyn party, and just like with the former, a servant helped Myrine, and the two women out.

Thea could see that Myrine was looking around in awe of her surroundings. The two women that were chaperoning her had sandwiched the child between them in a protective way. The sound of feet landing on the ground could be heard, and Thea looked to her left to see that the same Queensguard knight that had been standing at the dock earlier walking away from a black horse towards the Darklyn party with his squire in tow. Curious as ever, Thea reached over her mother and tugged at her father's sleeve to get his attention.

"Papa," Thea whispered, causing her father to lean his head down a little to hear what his daughter was saying, "who is that knight?"

"That is Ser Steffon Darklyn, the Lord Commander of the Queensguard. He is Lady Myrine's uncle, half-uncle to be correct."

"Half-uncle? That's just like Uncle Minos." Thea said. Her Uncle Minos was the youngest half-brother of Lady Adela. He was the third son of Garron Bolling, Thea's maternal grandfather and his third wife, while Adela was the only living child from Garron's second wife, Thea's biological maternal grandmother, Dinah Rosby.

A man wearing Targaryen livery came outside.

"My lords and ladies, on behalf of her grace, Queen Rhaenyra I Targaryen, I, her royal steward, Leo Rambton, thank you all for coming. I know that you all have had a long journey, but the queen wishes to see you all now. Follow me."

The two families steeled themselves as they walked into the main door. Two ushers opened the door leading to the throne room when two trumpets sounded. A crier announced the arrival of Houses Celtigar and Darklyn as they began walking into the throne room. Courtiers filled the room, and their eyes were rapt on the two girls, the future princesses through marriage. Up ahead was the royal family.

Queen Rhaenyra was sitting on the Iron Throne while her family flanked her below on both sides. The Velaryon Brothers and ladies Baela and Rhaena were on the queen's left with their children, and on her right was the king consort, his two sons/grandnephews, and a woman holding the one year old Princess Visenya, and the Green Targaryen's were present as well. Thea saw Aegon the Younger standing on his father's right. He was dressed richly in black and red with golden thread accents, had straight shoulder length silver-gold hair, and, even though he was far from her, Aegon without a doubt had purple eyes, the trademark features of the prince's pure Valyrian pedigree. Strangely enough, he looked familiar...

Lord Rambton stepped away from the front of the entourage he was leading. As he stepped away, he bowed respectfully to the queen and gestured towards the Celtigar's and Darklyn's.

"Your grace, the maids of Houses Celtigar and Darklyn."

Thea could see the queen looking at her, her silver-gold braided hair shimmering from the winter light outside. Thea froze as she felt Rhaenyra's purple eyes look her over. The examination was over quick and then the queen began looking at Myrine. A moment later, the queen spoke.

"Thea Celtigar and Myrine Darklyn, come forward. I would like to get a closer look at you two."

Adela and Bartimos began to follow their daughter until the queen spoke again.

"Just Thea and Myrine." She said curtly.

Feeling vulnerable at the idea of walking towards the queen without her parents by her side, Thea remained stationary and she looked at both her mother and her father.

"It is alright sweetling." Adela said comfortingly. "You will be fine. Walk up."

"Yes, go on dear." Bartimos encouraged.

Strengthened by her parents words, Thea made her first tentative steps to towards the Iron Throne. She could hear speaking coming from behind her and when she looked back, Thea could see that Myrine wasn't walking. Both her chaperones were holding her hands and trying to encourage her to walk, but Myrine would not budge. She looked distressed and on the verge of tears. She needed help.

Acting impulsively, Thea walked away from her shocked parents and towards Myrine. The courtiers stared incredulously at what Thea was doing, a future daughter-in-law of the queen blatantly disobeying a direct order from her royal grace. Rhaenyra cocked an eyebrow at the sight, but she did not say anything. Standing in front of Myrine, Thea offered the girl her hand.

"Take my hand. We can walk up together. Would you like that?"'

Myrine, who's lower lip was quivering, slowly nodded her head, and she let go of her chaperones hands. Silently, she extended her left hand and gently grasped Thea's. Without a word, the two girls made their way to the queen. The air of incredulity that had initially fallen over the crowd soon softened into that of a heartwarming realization. The two walked past a smiling Lord and Lady Celtigar who were greatly proud of their daughter's kindness.

When the two were about ten feet away from the Iron Throne, the queen raised her hand.

"You may stop now. That is close enough."

Thea let go of Myrine's hand to curtsy, and the latter followed suit. Rhaenyra looked over the two girls again. She was miffed that Thea had not listened to her command at first, but her displeasure melted away when she saw that it was for a good reason. Thea was kind, and that was an excellent quality to have in a spouse. However, Rhaenyra's displeasure remained, but this time it was aimed at Myrine.

She seemed to be an emotionally fragile girl who was incapable of doing anything without someone being there to hold her hand. Rhaenyra then realized that she was being too harsh on the child. After all, Myrine was only six years old, and she had just left her home and family to come live at an unfamiliar place with strangers. Most noble daughters went through that when they were in their tens, not when they were still young children. This thought made Rhaenyra feel some sympathy for Myrine.

To break the silence, Rhaenyra spoke.

"Welcome to the Red Keep, Thea Celitgar and Myrine Darklyn." The queen's voice echoed, her courtiers and household silent. "You two have had a long journey, so I will make the introductions brief."

She then went on to introduce her three oldest sons and two stepdaughters/daughters-in-law, her husband, and three youngest children. When the queen introduced Aegon as Thea's fiancé, Thea noticed how the prince had turned red and was pretending to be interested in the blades that made up the towering dias of the Iron Throne. It seemed quite rude, until Prince Viserys gleefully said, "Aegon, isn't that the girl you saw during mother's coronation tourney? You know, the one you turned so red at?"

"Viserys!" Aegon cried out indignantly, his face becoming a deeper shade of crimson. Chuckling and people saying "aw" could be heard from the gathered crowd. The Velaryon Brothers were doing their best to stifle their boyish giggling, while their wives rolled their eyes. Even little Visenya was smiling broadly with a toothless grin and she spouted off sweet little giggles.

Prince Viserys simply sported a malicious and triumphant grin after successfully embarrassing his older brother. Furious at his sibling, Aegon was about to punch Viserys when his father intervened.

"Aegon, don't you even think about it." His gruff voice was truly menacing, and Aegon immediately ceased his actions. A smug Viserys stuck his tongue out at Aegon when he looked away. Unfortunately for him, Daemon caught this.

"Viserys." He growled. "Stop acting like a pest and more like the prince you were born and raised to be. One more thing out of both of you and I will discipline you two myself. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

"Yes father." Both Aegon and Viserys said quietly in unison, their gazes fixed submissively on the floor.

Thea was surprised by her fiancé's attempt to strike his brother. She hoped that the punch was simply an impulse stemming from passionate anger rather than something born from a temper. After that interesting event, there was nothing else to do, and the queen dismissed everyone, and the Celtigar's and Darklyn's departed for their rooms. Before they left, Myrine expressed her gratitude to Thea for escorting her to the Iron Throne.

"Thank you." She said softly, the first words Thea had heard from Myrine.

The two parted ways when they reached a hallway that had residential quarters, and Thea hoped to see Myrine again soon. Bartimos had to leave his wife and child to attend a small council meeting with the queen, and he bid his family farewell after they had settled into their bedchambers. As Thea watched the servants unpack her belongings from her bed, another servant, an old woman, arrived asking for her.

"Yes?" Thea asked.

"The queen has mandated that both you and Lady Myrine will meet your future husband's face to face during separate, private meetings. If you come with me, I will take you to him. He will be at the Queen's Ballroom."

Thea dutifully did as told and she followed the woman out into the hallway. The Queen's Ballroom was a beautiful place. Torches on the walls were held by beaten silver mirror sconces that intensified the light from the fires, elaborate wood carvings depicting scenes from history and mythology decorated the room, and natural light poured in from large windows on the south wall. Prince Aegon was sitting at the large table tracing the loops and grains of the wooden surface with a pale finger out of boredom. When he heard the door open and saw his fiancée entering with the servant, Aegon stood up straight in his chair and put his hand on his lap.

When they approached the prince, the servant bowed.

"Your grace, here is Lady Thea Celtigar." The woman said. She then pulled out the chair across from Aegon and gestured for Thea to sit in it. Saying a quick thank you, Thea sat down and was pushed into the table. The servant resumed speaking. "I will be outside the door if you two need anything."

"Thank you." Aegon said, and the woman walked back out into the hallway. For two awkward minutes, the two did not say anything, with Thea being a little shy and Aegon the same as well as being embarrassed from Viserys revealing that she was the same girl he become flustered by. Just like before, Aegon felt intimidated by the same beautiful girl at the tourney grounds who now happened to be his fiancée. Taking note of her curly hair, a random question popped up in the prince's mind.

"Uh…" Aegon began, "is it hard to brush?"

Thea gave the prince a bemused look.

"Your hair. Is it difficult to brush?" Aegon asked, clarifying his original question.

Thea, embarrassed at first for not getting the obvious question right away, chuckled and said, "Yes it is. I have to get my hair wet before it can be combed. And it is so thick too! The servant who would brush my hair at home would spend nearly an hour combing my curls."

Aegon was surprised by that answer, it made him grateful that he had straight locks. Now that they were talking, Aegon decided to change the subject from curly hair to Thea's family. Even though he nodded with interest when Thea described her cousins, uncle and aunt, Aegon was more interested in one specific kinsmen from Thea's maternal side: Ser Minos Bolling.

"What is your Uncle Minos like?" He asked.

"I have only met him a few times, but he is kind to me. My mother said that he is "all man". He is hard to defeat; he proved that during your mother's tourney when he sparred with Ser Tristan Mormont. He is known as the "Great Stag" in the Stormlands."

"Does he have a name for his axe?" Aegon inquired. "My father wields a sword called Dark Sister. It is one of our ancestral swords. The other is—"

"Blackfyre." Thea finished for him, which she then followed up with an apology. Aegon forgave her and asked for the name of Ser Bolling's weapon, which the prince soon learned was "Bloodthirst". The thought of the tourney brought back the memory of seeing Thea for the first time, and then of Viserys embarrassing him about it then, and for the second time earlier that day. A feeling of remorse began to wash over Aegon.

"Forgive me for what happened today in the throne room Thea." Aegon began. "It was a very unbecoming way for us to meet. But Viserys was being such brat…"

"It is fine my lord." Thea said. "Although I wish I had a younger sibling."

"Why?" Aegon asked incredulously. "They can be so annoying. And you have your cousin Beatrice, Lady Thea. Doesn't she suffice?"

"She does, but sometimes I wish I had a little brother or sister of my own." Thea said wistfully, before adding, "What about your little sister Visenya? She's just a baby."

"She's…" Aegon hesitated before sighing with defeat, "fine. All she does is crawl around, eat, and sleep though."

"Don't you love both of them?" Thea asked, to which Aegon pursed his lips and hesitantly nodded. The mention of the word "eat" caused Thea's stomach to growl. It was a loud rumble, and Thea went wide-eyed and she grabbed her stomach with both hands.

"Sorry about that…" she said sheepishly. This made Aegon smile. Apologies had come full circle for both of them.

"Don't be. I will arrange for some food to be brought up to us. I take it the fare you had during your voyage was not entirely edible?"

"Yes, it was all tough and salty." Thea replied with disgust at the memory.

Aegon called for the servant outside and ordered for some bread, salt, and fruit to be brought up to them. As Thea happily supped on fresh apples, she continued to bond with the prince. He was exceeding her expectations. The Younger Prince was sweet, soft-spoken, and he had a lovely smile. As they talked, Thea's homesickness began to fade away as her world began to include her fiancé and the Red Keep.

That night, the two went to bed happily anticipating on meeting each other again the next day.

 ** _Coming up with Thea's background was quite fun. I thought it would be a neat twist to make her the descendent of a Black Bride, and to be the same girl Prince Aegon the Younger turned red at during the Coronation Tourney. Obviously, she was also the same girl who was cheering on her Uncle Minos during the melee. When I first came up with Thea, I did not know that House Celtigar was a family with Valyrian descent, so it was quite surprising when I found out that they were when I researched them on the A Song of Ice and Fire Wikipedia. Next up, Myrine Darklyn!_**


	14. House Celtigar circa 131 AC

**Thea Celtigar (Ancestry)**

 **•Great-Great-Grandparents:**

 _Paternal_

oEdwell Celtigar ( _great-great-grandfather_ ) – The second Hand of the King for Maegor I Targaryen. When Maegor was looking to marry again, Edwell suggested his two young daughters as potential wives. As the Seven Kingdoms turned against the tyrannical king, Edwell fled the Red Keep. 

_Maternal_

oSer Theo Bolling ( _great-great-grandfather_ ) – Elinor's first husband and the father of her three children. Taking note of Lady Costayne's fertility, King Maegor I accused Ser Theo of treason and had him tried, found guilty, and executed all on the same day. 

oElinor Costayne ( _great-great-grandmother_ ) – The widow of Ser Theo Bolling, King Maegor I Targaryen's fifth wife, and a member of his infamous three "Black Brides." Nineteen years old when she was forced to marry Maegor, Elinor was his youngest wife and the mother of three children. 

**Step-Great-Great-Grandparent:**

oMaegor I Targaryen ( _step-great-great-grandfather_ ) – The third Targaryen king and the only one born from the line of Aegon I and his elder sister-wife Visenya. He is remembered as a bloodthirsty tyrant who was constantly at war with the Faith and had been married six times. Thankfully, he never conceived an heir, and the bloodline of Aegon I and Visenya died with Maegor. 

• **Great-Grandparent** :

oTheo and Elinor's Oldest Son ( _maternal great-grandfather_ )

 **Thea Celtigar (Current Family** )

• **Grandparents** :

 _Paternal_

oSer Phineon Celtigar (grandfather) – Corlys Velaryon's best friend and companion during the voyages he took during their youth.

oGezgha Dao (grandmother) – A Qartheen woman Phineon met and fell in love with during his voyages with Corlys. She died giving birth to her son Adrianus.

 _Maternal_

oGarron Bolling ( _grandfather_ ) – The Lord of Golden Stag Keep. He is known as the "Mournful" due to losing his first two wives to childbirth and five children to accidents or other tragedies. 

oDinah Rosby ( _grandmother_ ) – Garron Bolling's second wife. Garron married Dinah because she appeared to be the healthiest of her kin. However, House Rosby's infamous poor health affected Dinah's reproductive system and she was plagued by troubled pregnancies. She died giving birth to her daughter Adela. 

• **Step-Grandparent** :

oHildegarde Vance ( _maternal step-grandmother_ ) – Garron Bolling's third wife. Because her stepdaughter was only a year old when she married Garron, Hildegarde treats Adela as if she was her own daughter, and the latter sees her stepmother as her own birth mother. 

• **Parents** :

oBartimos Celtigar ( _father_ ) – The Master of Ships on the small council of Queen Rhaenyra I Targaryen and the Lord of Claw Isle. 

oAdela Bolling ( _mother_ ) – Despite being fifteen years her husband's junior, Adela and Bartimos have a happy marriage. Adela inherited her mother's reproductive difficulties and her first three pregnancies were troubled and ended in tragedy. 

• **Siblings** :

oStillborn older sister

oStillborn older brother

oMiscarried older brother

• **Aunts/Uncles:**

 _Paternal_

oAdrianus Celtigar ( _uncle_ ) – Bartimos's younger brother. He lords over Claw Isle in his brother's stead while the latter is away serving as Master of Ships for the queen. 

Vaeya Groon ( _aunt through marriage_ ) – Adrianus's Lysene wife. They have an unhappy marriage. 

_Maternal_

oStillborn uncle

oStillborn uncle

oStillborn uncle

• **Half-Aunts/Half-Uncles:**

 _Garron Bolling and Lydia Tarth_ –  Garron's first wife. She died after giving birth to their twin sons. 

oTwin maternal half-uncles - Garron Bolling's twin sons from his first wife, Lydia Tarth. The brothers died when they were both eight years old. One 

twin died from injuries sustained from being thrown off a horse, and the other passed away from a broken heart. 

_Garron Bolling and Hildegarde Vance_

oUnnamed maternal half-uncle

oUnnamed maternal half-aunt

oUnnamed maternal half-uncle

oSer Minos Bolling ( _maternal half-uncle_ )

oUnnamed maternal half-aunt

• **Cousins** :

 _Adrianus Celtigar and Vaeya Groon_

oDorian Celtigar ( _first cousin_ )

oBeatrice Celtigar ( _first cousin)_


	15. Chapter 11: The Princess of Duskendale

**_The final introductory chapter of the royal fiancées. Enjoy!_**

 ** _Duskendale_**

 ** _Four Months Earlier (Same time as Thea)_**

Duskendale was a busy port town. The docks, filthy wooden constructs that were often splattered with rotting fish guts and seagull droppings, groaned under the weight of sailors, merchants, and fisherman as they traversed from or to trade cogs and fishing boats. Fishwives hawked the day's catch as workmen carried trade goods from the ships to the town square market for sale. Away from the docks, the common people milled about performing their day to day tasks; like a housewife emptying the family chamber pot out from the top window of her home and onto the street below, a local aristocrat going to the market to purchase a pricey bauble for his paramour, a septon going to the docks to pray with sailors for safety during an upcoming voyage, and children playing in streets without a care in the world. The cries of gulls, the cacophony of voices, combined with the salty scent of the sea made the town even more alive and vibrant.

Five noble families lived in Duskendale: Dargood, Darke, Darklyn, Darkwood, and Hollard. House Darklyn ruled over the thriving port town from their mighty stronghold the Dun Fort. In times long past, the Darklyn's were kings who fought for dominance over the Crownlands, and were once conquered by the Storm King Monfryd the Mighty. Even after later subjugation by the Andals during the Andal Invasion, the Darklyn's retained their power to as faraway as Crackclaw Point, although the denizens there resisted their rule and pushed them out. After Aegon's Conquest, House Darklyn swore allegiance to the Targaryen's, becoming one of their most loyal allies.

House Darklyn proved their newfound loyalty in 10 AC. That year, after King Aegon I and Queen Visenya narrowly avoided death at the hands of Dornish assassins during the First Dornish War, the warrior queen realized that the combined martial prowess of both herself and her brother-husband was not enough to protect themselves from harm. In response to this revelation, Visenya founded the Kingsguard and she handpicked the first seven knights herself. One of the first members of this esteemed order was Robin Darklyn, who was also known as "Darkrobin". After him, three more Darklyn men would swear oaths to the Iron Throne and become Kingsguard knights.

Two Darklyn brothers, Sers Rolland and Davos, served and died during the reign of Maegor I. Ser Rolland was the youngest ever knight to enter the ranks of the Kingsguard at the age of sixteen. An hour after he was sworn in, Ser Rolland was slain alongside another Kingsguard brother by Lord Rupert Falwell during the Battle at the Great Fork in 42 AC. A year later, Ser Davos followed his brother into the afterlife when he was killed during the Battle Beneath the God's Eye in 43 AC. In 88 AC, forty-five years after Davos's death, Ser Steffon Darklyn became a Kingsguard knight during the reign of Jaehaerys I at the age of seventeen.

After the Old King's passing, Steffon served under the reign of Viserys I. Despite his long service, Steffon was passed over for the Lord Commander promotion in favor of Ser Criston Cole at Queen Alicent Hightower's request. Steffon was finally rewarded the title after the ascension of Queen Rhaenyra I Targaryen. To honor these men, the Darklyn's heraldry possessed a vertical red bar that proudly bore four solid white shields, one for each Kingsguard knight who was a Darklyn. From kings to royal knights, House Darklyn's history was a glorious and bloody saga, and the Darklyn children were taught their family history from an early age to instill them with pride for their house.

And there was none more well versed with knowledge than Myrine Darklyn. At the tender age of six, Myrine was a prodigy. She loved to read, her favorite subjects being history and ornithology. For hours on end, the girl would sit in the Dun Fort's library reading books detailing subjects that seemed a little too advanced for someone her age. Myrine's literary adventures wasn't exactly embraced by her family however.

The family septon had often warned Myrine that girls could get sick from reading too much. He would bolster his claim by saying that the Father had created education to be the tool of the stronger sex, men, while it was to be off limits to women due to the "damage" it could do their "delicate" minds. Even though she did not agree with all of it, Myrine's worry wart of a mother, Anise Stokeworth, told her youngest daughter time and time again to cut down on her literature in fear of her catching some sort of bizarre malaise that only girls and women could catch from reading. But Myrine did not understand what was so bad about her learning about the migratory patterns of birds or the history of the Valyrian Freehold. Learning about these things did not harm her mind, they enriched it, and this benefited Myrine greatly.

She was Maester Caldon's best pupil, and the envy of her siblings and cousins. Myrine was also his favorite due to her very quiet nature and politeness. Despite these positive aspects, Myrine did have some difficulties. She had difficulty retaining eye contact with people, could not do anything new on her own; she had to have people help guide her through, and she was very sensitive to textures like scratchy wool, wood that wasn't lacquered, and even the cobblestones that paved Duskendale's streets. Lady Ansie vividly remembered Myrine's infancy, when she would coo at the smooth stone floor of her nursery, and would cry and howl when she touched the stiff fabrics of the Myrish carpet in her father's study when she was placed upon it.

Thank the Seven above when Myrine outgrew some of her touch sensitivity, but some of it lingered. For example, she cannot wear leather sandals because of how easily she could feel what was beneath her feet with them. Myrine was also not keen about any changes in her daily routine. She did not like being interrupted when she was reading, when she wanted to be alone, even a change in the main course for dinner bothered Myrine. Regardless of the ups and downs that they had had with their daughter, Anise and her husband, Horace Darklyn, both loved Myrine very much.

Besides Myrine, Anise and Horace had four other children: Rodrik, the eldest; Jenefer, the oldest daughter; Wyllis, the middle child; and Connor, the youngest and Myrine's only younger sibling. Besides this family, Myrine's extended family also lived at the Dun Fort. Her Uncle Henry, Horace's twin brother, and his wife Tacia Dayne lived at the Dun Fort with their six children and they had a seventh one who was due to arrive any day now. Myrine's grandfather, the former Lord of Duskendale, Kreon Darklyn, spent every day in his quarters due to being bedridden since he suffered from severely swollen joints in his hands and feet, which made walking nearly impossible. His third wife, Rhiannon Westerling (Myrine's paternal grandmother), tended to her husband at his bedside.

Kreon's affliction marked a sad end to a man who had led an interesting life. He had been married three times, with his first wives being his own cousins, and had fathered seven children. From his first wife, Susannah Darklyn, he only had Steffon; from his second wife, Adrianna Hollard, Kreon had three daughters: Theodosia, Cecilia, and Josephine, and a stepson from Adrianna's first marriage: Tymieon Reyne; and finally with his third wife, Rhiannon, they had three children: twin brothers Horace and Henry, and a daughter, Meredyth. From most of his children, Kreon had twenty-two grandchildren (counting the unborn child in Tacia's womb). Just like his father, Horace Darklyn followed in his father's footsteps and was married to a cousin of his, Anise Stokeworth, who was his maternal third cousin.

And speaking of cousins, Kreon's first cousin, and the younger brother of his first wife, Ser Lammert Darklyn, also resided at the Dun Fort with his son, Sandor. Lammert's daughter, Berenice, had sworn holy vows with her second cousin Cecilia, and they lived together at a motherhouse as septas. Needless to say, the Dun Fort was a crowded castle. Myrine could not find much solitude due to all of her relatives living there, but she was able to tolerate the busyness of it all, and was close to her family. She was closer to her younger brother Connor, however.

Connor was two years younger than his sister, and was Myrine's constant companion. When he would see his big sister, Connor would tail after her on his tiny legs; asking her to play with or read to him. Myrine would happily do both and during the recent warmer years, she would read to Connor under a tree in the Dun Fort's garden. Her little brother particularly liked stories from the Age of Heroes, and Myrine would regale him with the mythical exploits of Symeon Star-Eyes, Bran the Builder, and Lann the Clever. Connor loved the story about Symeon, and he wanted to be like him, to which his sister would remind him that the reason why the man was known as "Star-Eyes" was because he had lost both his eyes and had replaced them with star sapphires.

And now, both Myrine and Connor were in the former's bedchamber, sitting in front of the fireplace. Myrine was reading to her brother another Age of Heroes legend. It was the Grey King, the legendary founder of the houses of the Iron Isles. She had just gotten to the part where the Grey King had slain the sea dragon Nagga, a frightening aquatic beast who feasted on krakens and leviathans, and could submerge islands when enraged.

"After the fearsome Nagga had been felled by the Grey King's sword, the dragon's bones turned to stone." Myrine read clearly. "Upon his victory on the shores of Old Wyck did the Grey King set about building his home from the fallen Nagga's remains. From her great jaws did the Grey King craft his throne, her teeth became his crown, the bones became the pillars and beams, and her still living fire was used to warm the finished hall."

Connor was in awe of the description his sister had provided about Grey King's Hall, and he wished that the Dun Fort had been made from the remains of a great beast. Myrine continued.

"With his hall complete, the Grey King's next goal was to find a wife. But no mortal woman would be the Grey King's queen, for he wed a mermaid from the sea. The children born from their union could live on both the land and in the sea—"

As Myrine was getting to the part where the Grey King crafted the Driftwood Crown, a knock on the door distracted her. Both she and her brother looked up to hear who their unexpected visitor was. A familiar voice muffled by the wooden door was heard. The speaker was Myrine and Connor's youngest male cousin by Uncle Henry, Percival.

"I'm sorry to disturb you Myrine, but may I come in?"

Myrine was bothered by this interruption, even though it was from a cherished relative. She really wanted to continue reading to Connor. While his sister was annoyed, Connor seemed curious and happy by their cousin's visit.

"Percival! Percival!" The four year old exclaimed happily with a speech impediment. Seeing her little brother's happiness soothed Myrine's irritation and she granted her cousin entry with a simple yes. When Percival entered, he was greeted by a big hug by his cousin.

Both Myrine and Connor's older brothers, Rodrik and Wyllis, were being fostered away from home at Rook's Rest and Raventree Hall respectively, Connor looked up to his male cousins as big brothers; with Percival being his favorite. Myrine felt a twinge of jealousy at the sight, but she suppressed it. She attempted to be cordial.

"Did you come here to listen to the story?" She asked.

"No," Percival said as he patted Connor's back, "but it is about you. Uncle Horace would like to see you straight away. It's about something important."

"Really?" Myrine asked. This was interesting. What could be so important that it involved her? Her father was the Lord of Duskendale, he had to run both his house and the port town they all lived in. Her father's summons truly intrigued the six year old girl.

When Connor released his eight year old cousin, Percival spoke again.

"I will take you to him Myrine. Follow me. Here, take my hand Connor."

Myrine followed behind her cousin and little brother from her bedroom and into the hallway. Her father's study was not too far away, with Myrine's slow pace it took a little longer. Her fine leather shoes kept her feet warm, but she could feel the small ledges and grooves on the stone that had been created by water and wind before the rock had been cut out at a quarry and then carved into building blocks. This felt nice on her feet. It was better than cobblestones, whose roundness hurt the soles of her feet.

The three eventually made it to the Lord of Duskendale's study. Percival knocked on the door.

"Uncle Horace, here is Myrine."

"Good boy Percival." Myrine's father's voice resounded. "Now be a good lad and open the door for her. You do remember that part of the Code of Chivalry involves being courteous to women correct?"

Realizing what he had done, Percival became red, squeaked out and apology and opened the door for his cousin. Horace was sitting behind his desk inside.

"That's better." he said. Now you can go."

"Thank you uncle." Percival said sheepishly. Before he left, Percival had one last question to ask his uncle. "Can Connor come train with me and cousin Sandor? I will be gentle with him, I promise."

Myrine gave her cousin a shocked look. She did not want her darling little brother to train yet. He was too young, he could get hurt. But her father thought otherwise for he granted his nephew permission to take his youngest son with him. With that, Percival, with Connor in hand, raced down the hallway excitedly. Horace shook his head at the antics of the children.

Horace turned his attention to his daughter.

"Come here Myrine." He said, gesturing by waving his hand towards himself.

Myrine obediently did as told. Her father's study was impressive. There was a large white limestone fireplace that was embossed with the faces of Darklyn kings from ages past, and above the mantelpiece hung a shield bearing the Darklyn heraldry with two swords crossed underneath it; two suits of armor dating from before the Andal Invasion were mounted across from each other from the walls closest to the door, a large tapestry depicting the Maiden presenting King Hugor of the Hill with the woman who was become his first wife and the mother of his forty-four sons; a sharp contrast from the martial decorations that dotted the room. It had been part of Horace's wife's dowry. Supposedly the imagery was supposed to convey the fertility of Anise Stokeworth, and that hopefully she would give birth to many sons.

Passing by the roaring fire, and around the Myrish carpet that distressed her greatly as a baby, Myrine was about to sit on one of the chairs when her father told her otherwise.

"No, sweetling. Come sit on my lap."

Myrine did as told, and she rounded the desk and made herself comfortable on her father's lap. Horace wrapped his arms around his youngest daughter, making her feel warm and safe. Horace was a handsome man, with black hair and grey eyes; Darklyn looks. Myrine had her house's grey eyes, but long, straight brown hair like her mother. She was a pretty thing.

When Myrine was settled, Horace spoke to her.

"Do you want to know why I wanted to see you my sweet?"

Myrine shook her head. "No." She said softly. Horace smiled and with his free left hand, he dragged over a scroll that was laying on the desk. He pointed to the broken wax seal.

"Can you see the sigil on that seal Myrine?"

Myrine leaned forward and squinted at it. From the soft light slinging through the paneled, beaten horn windows, Myrine could make out the wings and three heads of the Targaryen dragon. Myrine's eyes widened when she realized what it was.

"This is from the royal family?" She asked.

"Yes." Horace answered. With his right arm wrapped around his daughter, Horace managed to reach around her to help his left hand to unroll the scroll. To hold it down, he placed a full silver ink pot and the small knife he used to shape the tips of quills so that they could be used for writing on the left corners of the parchment. Myrine was intrigued by the florid writing style that was present on the parchment.

"Your uncle Steffon wrote this. Can you read it my dear?" Horace asked.

Myrine began with the top of the letter. She knew most of the words, and she stopped when she across the word 'betrothal'. Myrine had recently learned that word when her father had announced that her older sister Jenefer was betrothed to Austin Bracken, the heir to Stone Hedge. When she asked what that meant, her mother told her that Jenefer was going to marry Lord Bracken sometime in the near future. But here in her half-uncle's letter, Myrine saw her name after the word 'betrothal', and after that, the name of Prince Viserys Targaryen.

"I am… to be married?" Myrine asked, fear slowly creeping up inside of her. Anise had also told Myrine that getting married also meant that Jenefer was not going to be living at the Dun Fort anymore, just like how Anise had moved from Stokeworth Castle to live with her husband and his family. Myrine did not want to leave her home, it was were she was born and raised, it was where her family was. This revelation caused her much distress, and Myrine turned to her father.

"Please don't send me away papa! Please!" She begged; on the verge of hysteria.

Horace knew that that was going to be his child's reaction to the news. She never took to new things very well. All Horace could do was hold Myrine close as she began to cry.

"There, there, Myrine…" he said, patting her head. "I know that this is hard for you." Feeling his daughter's tears seeping through the fabric of his tunic, Horace procured a handkerchief from a drawer at his desk. "Here, let me see your face." He said.

Myrine's face was red and puffy, streaked with glistening tear trails, and a small stream of snot flowing out of her nose. With a fatherly gentleness, Horace dabbed Myrine's eyes and cheeks dry, before commanding her to blow her nose and then cleaning it up afterwards. Seeing that his daughter was a little calmer, Horace gently rubbed her arm and continued speaking with a reassuring tone.

"Like I was saying earlier, this is understandable very difficult for you Myrine. But this is something to be very happy about." Myrine looked at her father with a long face and red eyes. "For over a century, House Darklyn has sent her sons to become Kingsguard knights, and now, thanks to your Uncle Steffon, we shall send a daughter to become the wife of a Targaryen prince! You will be the first Myrine.

It is a great honor that the queen has offered us this match between you and her youngest son. He is only two years older than you my dear. It won't be that bad. Please be happy, this is wonderful news."

Myrine tried to be happy but could not. It was easy for her father to say such things, he was not the one going to be sent away to marry someone he had never met. But Myrine loved her father, and she wanted him to be happy, so she attempted to smile. She managed to work up a small one, which pleased Horace, and he gave her a kiss on her cheek. But no matter how much her father reassured her, Myrine's fear remained, and it was like a building ball of pressure in her stomach.

When the news of the engagement was announced to the rest of the family that night, the internal pressure increased as Myrine was showered with congratulations and praise. All of these people were so happy to see her go. She wished dearly that someone, anyone, would object to the engagement. But her family shared her father's sentiments, and thus Myrine felt alone even amongst familiar faces. How she wanted to escape and venture into the worlds she created from the books she had read, even to one where Nagga existed seemed preferable to the reality she was currently living in.

The next day, a letter from Queen Rhaenyra arrived in response to Horace's letter stating his acceptance of the betrothal. The royal letter in turn announced the queen's pleasure at Horace accepting the match between his second daughter to her fifth born son, and that a ship from King's Landing would be coming to Duskendale to collect Myrine. Neither her father nor her mother would be going with her. Instead, Septa Lisle would accompany her young charge to King's Landing, and would oversee her education at the Red Keep. In lieu of her parents, Myrine was going to be looked after by (to some extant) Ser Steffon, and her half-aunt, Josephine, who was one of Queen Rhaenyra's ladies-in-waiting, and the wife of Gormon Massey, the Master of Laws.

There was also Ser Steffon's sixteen year old squire, Harrold Darke. He was a distant cousin of Myrine's and he was to serve as her sworn shield at the Red Keep since her half-uncle would be busy protecting the queen. Even though these three individuals were strangers to Myrine, they were still family and this comforted her greatly. She could get to know them. But it still hurt that she was soon going to leave her own family however…

During the week before the arrival of the royal ship, Lady Anise began spending more time with her daughter to hone her etiquette and social skills. Besides preparing her for a life as a princess through marriage, Myrine was also going to be the companion of Princess Jaehaera Targaryen, which was also stated in the queen's letter. Rhiannon Westerling was especially pleased about this particular news because when she was young, Rhiannon had been a lady-in-waiting herself and she served Aemma Arryn during the later years of Jaehaerys I's reign. She eventually left the royal court to marry Kreon Darklyn, whom she had met during the funeral for Queen Alysanne. It made Rhiannon proud that her granddaughter was going to be following in her footsteps by becoming a royal lady-in-waiting as well as a member of the royal family.

Before the week was up, under both her mother and grandmother's tutelage, Myrine had perfected curtsying, posture, and manners; both table and general. However, eye contact remained a bit of a problem. Whenever a stranger tried conversing with Myrine, she would look away. She had gradually learned to look her family in the eye, and Anise hoped and prayed that the same would happen when Myrine began living at the royal court; something she prayed for every night before she went to bed.

The night before her departure for the capitol, a glorious feast was held in Myrine's honor. Houses Dargood, Darke, Darkwood, and Hollard; including rich merchant families, were invited to the Dun Fort to celebrate Myrine's last night at home and to wish her well. Besides congratulatory toasts, Myrine was also the receiver of many fine gifts from her merchant guests, gifts like dresses made from silk and decorated with intricate lacework and jewels; prayer books, hand mirrors, and some toys. Myrine was overwhelmed by the jubilant atmosphere and she barely touched a thing on her plate. When she went to bed that night, her heart was beating fast with some excitement, for tomorrow was the dawn of a new beginning for the six year old girl.

Little Connor slept with his big sister that night. He drifted off to sleep in Myrine's arms as she rubbed his head. It took some time for her to go asleep, and when she did, Myrine gave her little brother a kiss on his forehead and held him close. She never knew when she would be able to hold him again. Myrine wished that the night would never end.

Sadly for Myrine, morning came. She rose early and had her last morning meal with her family. After all of her belongings had been packed, and after Myrine had said good-bye to her beloved grandfather, both she and her family boarded wheelhouses and were driven down to the docks. The journey was made in silence, with Anise occasionally fretting whether the servants had forgotten to pack any of her daughter's belongings. Horace would comfort his wife, but he looked like he could use some comfort himself with the crestfallen look he had.

When the wheelhouses slowed to a stop, it felt like Myrine's heart would as well. The door opened and the Lord and Lady of Duskendale exited the wheelhouse; and Myrine and Connor were helped out by their parents.

"Come here Connor." Horace said, and he scooped up his youngest son in his arms. Holding Connor with his right arm, Horace took hold of Myrine's right hand with his left. Anise took her daughter's left hand into her right; both parents gave Myrine's hands a reassuring squeeze.

"Let's go now darling." Anise said softly, her voice trembling slightly. Following behind Myrine and her parents were her grandmother, older sister Jenefer, Uncle Henry and Aunt Tacia, and her numerous cousins. The ship loomed before everyone, and it felt like the Titan of Braavos to Myrine. Septa Lisle stood before the gangplank, patiently waiting to escort Myrine onto the ship as the girl said her final good-byes to her family.

It was a bittersweet moment. Anise cried while Horace tried to hold back his tears, and Connor remained by his sister's side after hugging her, and he followed her as she was embraced by the rest of her family. When it was time for her board her ship, little Connor followed Myrine until his mother took hold of his arm.

"No, sweetling you cannot go with her. I am sorry." Anise said gently to her youngest son. Connor began to fight his mother's hold.

"No! I want Mywee! Mywee!" The little boy whined, his speech impediment making his cries sound more heart wrenching to Myrine. His hold his sister increased, and Myrine found it hard to continue with her little brother holding onto her and her mother tugging on him to let go. Anise was able to get Connor to let go of his sister's hand, but he wailed and struggled after his hand had slipped from Myrine's. As Anise tried to comfort her son, Horace urged Lisle to take Myrine and go, which they did.

From the starboard side, Myrine watched as a servant took Connor from his mother and into the wheelhouse to be comforted out of sight of the gawking onlookers at the docks, his wailing becoming muffled within the carriage. After the anchor was pulled up, and the ship began to sail away, Myrine watched as her family waved good-bye to her. She too waved back to them, her eyes filling with tears. Despite it all, Myrine kept her posture and she continued to wave. She kept up until her family was no longer visible on the horizon.

For most of the journey, Myrine remained in her quarters with Septa Lisle; only coming out on deck a few times a day to get fresh air. The journey was not a long one, but it felt like it was to Myrine. When King's Landing was sighted, Myrine noticed that another ship was sailing into Blackwater Bay. Upon closer inspection, Myrine saw that the ship had a flag bearing the heraldry of House Targaryen. Myrine had learned that there were two other fiancées were due to arrive at the Red Keep, and it appeared that she was going to meet one of them.

Waiting for her at the docks were her half-uncle and aunt, Ser Steffon and Josephine, and Harrold Darke. The former was easy to spot because of his glimmering, polished armor and white cape. It was easy to guess that the woman by his side was Josephine because it could not be anyone else along with Harrold Darke, who stood by Ser Steffon's side. When the ship finally reached the docks, along with the Celtigar ship, Myrine and Septa Lisle disembarked. Josephine was the first to greet her half-niece.

"Welcome to King's Landing Myrine." She said kindly and she embraced Myrine as if she had known her all her life. Josephine had long black hair that had a scant few strands of silver hair and was tied in a braided bun that was covered by a veil. The Lady of Stonedance was also the mother of ten children, and her body was obese as a result of those pregnancies. From what Lisle had told her, Josephine only had seven living children, having lost three of them (two boys and a girl) when they were young to illness.

Aunt Josephine's embrace was a tight one, and Myrine was unable to wrap her arms entirely around her aunt's girth. It was still a good way to be introduced to her new home though. After she had been released, and had regained her breath, Myrine was greeted by her half-uncle.

"Welcome to King's Landing Myrine." He said, his greeting more formal than his youngest half-sister's. "We have been happily anticipating your arrival."

"It is wonderful to meet you Lady Myrine." Harrold spoke up. "Ser Steffon has told me much about you."

Those words made Myrine feel good and she ducked her head and blushed. An awkward silence descended, and Myrine began tugging at her skirt, shuffled her feet, and looking around. Seeing this, Septa Lisle placed her hand on Myrine's back and whispered, "Look up dear. Do not look away. Say hello."

Myrine did as told, and she managed to hold her gaze on her uncle and aunt. She curtsied, causing Lisle to smile proudly.

"It is…" Myrine struggled over the words, "a pleasure to meet you all as well." She said, conquering her shyness. Myrine felt proud of herself. Ser Steffon spoke next.

"We should get going. You have to meet the queen and her family."

Myrine became anxious at the thought of meeting the queen, and was more than happy to take Josephine's offered hand. Inside the wheelhouse, Josephine tried to converse with her half-niece. It was small talk mostly regarding family and current feelings. Other than that, Myrine did have one pressing topic to talk about.

"How many people will be there? In the throne room?"

"A good deal." Josephine said, and Myrine tensed up. Seeing this, Josephine began trying to reassure her niece. "It's just courtiers, the queen's small council, the queen and her family. It will be alright darling. You will meet my husband Gormon. He could not come and see you due to a small council meeting. He said that he would like to meet you my dear."

"Oh." Was all Myrine could say. Then she thought of something.

"What is Prince Viserys like?" She asked.

"He is a sweet boy." Josephine began. "He can be quite mischievous with his cousin's and older brother, but other than that, he is quite mature for his age. You will like him my dear." A look of realization formed on Josephine's face as she remembered something. "Besides you my dear, the fiancée of Prince Aegon the Younger will be here as well. She was on that ship that arrived alongside yours at the docks. Her name is Thea Celtigar I believe."

"I see." was all Myrine could say. Soon, the wheelhouse reached the Red Keep gates. Septa Lisle and Josephine were helped out of the wheelhouse by a servant, with Myrine following suit. Stepping outside, Myrine soon found herself in awe of her surroundings. The courtyard was so much bigger than the one at the Dun Fort, maybe even larger than the market at Duskendale itself.

There was a smithy, stables, guardhouses, and so many other things that Myrine wanted to see but could not. Soon, Ser Steffon Darklyn and Harrold Darke dismounted from their horses and he approached the women.

"Had a good journey my ladies?" Ser Steffon asked and everyone said yes. The knight then looked at Myrine. "Are you ready to meet the queen Myrine?"

She nodded, her anxiety climbing. Then, a man wearing Targaryen livery stepped outside from the castle.

"My lords and ladies, on behalf of her grace, Queen Rhaenyra I Targaryen, I, her royal steward, Leo Rambton, thank you all for coming. The queen wishes to see you all now. Follow me."

Sandwiched between her two chaperones, Myrine was led into the Red Keep. She marveled at the architecture both outside and now inside. She could not help but think of the workmen who had laid down every stone, set up every door, and slathered mortar onto every building block. During the reigns of the first three Targaryen kings, there was scaffolding wrapped the growing walls, the sound of hammers and chisels shaping stone, orders being barked out, and horses neighing as they brought in wagons full of stone, other construction material, and more workmen. Even though the builders were long gone and buried beneath the Red Keep itself courtesy of Maegor the Cruel, their legacy (and grave) remained and it was a magnificent testimony to their hard work and craftsmanship.

But instead of busy workers, the throne room was filled with curious courtiers. Myrine tensed when the doors to the throne room were open, and the crier announced their presence to everyone at the royal court. She held on to the hands of Josephine and Lisle tightly as they all walked down the long red carpet that led up to the Iron Throne. Myrine could feel the eyes of the royal court upon both her and Thea Celtigar as they walked towards the throne. But no gaze felt more powerful than that of Queen Rhaenyra I Targaryen's.

When Myrine could muster the strength to look at the queen, she could feel the regal power that emanated from her. If Myrine had not looked, she could have sworn she was in the presence of an actual dragon. The blood of Old Valyria undoubtedly flowed through the veins of the queen, even though technically she was also one quarter Valeman on her mother's side. Though dragons were far more fearsome, Myrine knew that falcons were fierce creatures in their own right. They had talons with which they could claw the face of some fool who dared to invade their nest, and sharp beaks that could pluck out eyes just as easily as removing the entrails from a dormouse's soft belly.

Even though she knew that the queen could not breathe fire or pluck out her eyes (she could always get the torturer to do that for her), Myrine still felt intimidated by Rhaenyra's very presence. After the Darklyn's and Celtigar's had stopped to bow before the queen, Rhaenyra I spoke.

"Thea Celtigar and Myrine Darklyn, come forward. I would like to get a closer look at you two."

Myrine and her chaperones began to walk towards the throne when the queen stated that she only wanted the two girls to walk up by themselves instead. Myrine's heart felt as if it were going to pop out of her chest. She became so nervous, and everything her mother had taught her about royal etiquette began to slip away.

"Go on Myrine." Septa Lisle encouraged, but Myrine found that her feet had seemingly become stone, and she was unable to move. She could hear Aunt Josephine offering encouragement as well, but she could do nothing but stand there. With people staring at her, and Lisle and Josephine trying to get her to move, Myrine simply shut her eyes tightly and tried to escape from her current predicament.

" _You have got to move! Move!_ " Myrine could hear herself say. But what if she floundered? She would embarrass not just herself, but also her entire family.

House Darklyn would become a laughing stock famous for the fragile and strange Myrine. As these thoughts clouded her mind, a sudden hush fell upon Myrine.

"Myrine dear…" Josephine whispered.

Myrine opened her eyes, which had begun to fill up with tears, to see a girl standing in front of her. She was just a few years older than Myrine and she was beautiful. She had long straw blonde hair that was curled in strands, lilac eyes, and pale skin with a freckled face. This girl obviously had Valyrian ancestry and then Myrine knew who she was; Thea Celtigar, the fiancée of Prince Aegon the Younger. Thea offered out her hand to Myrine.

"Take my hand. We can walk up together. Would you like that?" Thea asked softly.

On the verge of tears, but finding strength in Thea's kindness, Myrine reached out and took her hand. Silently, she let go of Septa Lisle and both Myrine and Thea made their way towards the Iron Throne together. Myrine's anxiety calmed down, her tears disappeared before they could even fall, and she walked with more confidence. She could sense the queen's scrutiny against her, and Myrine promised herself that it would never happen again. The two stopped when the queen held her hand up and told them that they were close enough.

As the queen introduced her family, Myrine witnessed an example of her future husband's mischievousness.

"Aegon, isn't that the girl you saw during mother's coronation tourney? You know, the one you turned so red at?"

"Viserys!" Aegon shouted.

Myrine looked at Thea to see her purple eyes widen with a mixture of surprise and bemusement. Both girls were even more startled when they saw the prince attempt to strike his younger brother, but the menacing voice of their father put an end to that. After that, everyone was dismissed. Before Thea left, Myrine expressed her gratitude towards her.

"Thank you." She said, and she scuttled off towards Josephine and Lisle. Together they took her to her room, and Myrine relaxed on her bed. Before long, she drifted off into sleep. Her nap did not last for too long, for Septa Lisle shook Myrine awake.

"Sorry to wake you up Myrine." She said. "But you have to meet Prince Viserys now. Let's brush your hair first before we go, alright?"

Myrine nodded and after the septa had brushed her hair, the woman placed her passed her off into the custody of Harrold Darke, who was to take her to her waiting fiancé. To Myrine's great delight, the meeting place was at the royal library. Shelves full of rare scrolls, manuscripts and tomes greeted the knowledge hungry girl and her heart skipped with joy at the thought of reading them. Harrold led her through an aisle towards a table by a series of long windows. Sitting at the table was Prince Viserys.

Seeing her sworn shield bowing, Myrine followed suit with a curtsy.

"Prince Viserys," Harrold began, "here is Lady Myrine Darklyn."

Myrine blushed, she was still a girl, not a grown lady yet. Viserys simply nodded and spoke.

"I see Lord Darke. My mother had told me that you were going to bring her here."

Myrine was impressed by her fiancé's tone, he sounded so mature. It was just like what Aunt Josephine had told her. Harrold bowed again.

"I shall leave you two alone then. I believe that Grandmaester Gerardys is here."

"He is." The prince replied.

"Good," Harrold said as he regained control of the conversation,"he will help you two if any of you need anything." Harrold nodded at Myrine, giving her a small smile of reassurance before turning to leave. Myrine watched her half-uncle's squire leave and shut the door behind him, the sound of the door closing reverberating loudly throughout the library.

Turning her attention back towards Viserys, who was looking at her with bored indifference, Myrine became rooted to the floor. However, Myrine willed herself to move, and she did. She briskly made her way to the chair on Viserys's left and she made herself comfortable. At first, nothing was said between them. Viserys was staring at his hands, which were on his lap, while Myrine looked on.

Clearly he wished he was somewhere else, and the feeling was mutual with Myrine. But neither of them had a say in their current situations. Realizing that they had something in common, Myrine attempted to speak.

"Ummm…" she began, causing Viserys to look up. "Uhh…" she searched for words, anything to say to her fiancé, who was now looking at her expectantly.

"Do not be so nervous." Viserys said suddenly, relieving Myrine of the pressure of speaking first. "Forgive me for not talking. It was rude of me, and I apologize."

"Apology accepted." Myrine replied quickly. A short silence followed before Viserys spoke again.

"Do you want to know why we are meeting together at the library?" He asked, to which Myrine shook her head.

"Well," Viserys began, "I heard that you love books. It was my idea to meet you here."

Myrine was amazed by Viserys's thoughtfulness.

"Thank you my lord." She said. "That was… most kind of you."

Viserys smiled bashfully. "So," he started up again, "what do you like to read?"

"Many things." Myrine began. The mention of her favorite pastime made Myrine lively and she spoke more clearly and concisely. "But I like reading about history and birds the most."

"How interesting," Viserys said, "but why birds?"

"I don't know." Myrine murmured. "They are just very fascinating to me. They can fly and sing, and no matter what species they are, birds always look beautiful."

"What about vultures?" Viserys asked with a bemused look. "They look so ugly."

"Well not all of them are beautiful." Myrine replied. "But they all serve a purpose. Vultures feed on carrion so that it does not just rot away. They get rid of animal corpses so that they do not foul up the land."

"Impressive." Viserys replied. "Now about history. What is your favorite subject?"

"The Valyrian Freehold." She said confidently. "I can name all of your ancestors from Aenar the Exile to Aegon the Conqueror." She said proudly.

"Really now?" Viserys said, raising an eyebrow. "Prove it."

Leaning back into her chair, Myrine smiled proudly and began to list off the pre-dynastic ancestors of her fiancé's house.

"Aenar the Exile and his two children: Gaemon "the Glorious" and Daenys "the Dreamer". From Gaemon and Daenys's marriage, they had two children: Aegon and Elaena. From their marriage, they had two sons: Maegon and Aerys. Aerys would later have three sons: Aelyx, Baelon, and Daemion. Daemion would become the father of Aerion, and may have been the uncle of his son's wife, Valaena Velaryon. Together, Aerion and Valaena would have Visenya, Aegon I, and Rhaenys. And as we all know, Aegon I would be the last Lord of Dragonstone and the first Targaryen king."

Myrine paused to take a breath before continuing while Viserys looked on with a look of complete surprise on his face.

"You most likely have more ancestors than that, but their names have been lost to time. But anyway, those are all of your ancestors from after the Doom of Valyria." Myrine said with a big smile.

Blinking with disbelief, Viserys then called for Grandmaester Gerardys. The old man came running at the young prince's call.

"Yes my lord?" He asked breathlessly.

"Please find the scroll that details my family tree from after the Doom."

Gerardys went looking for the scroll, and just a minute later, he came back with it. He laid it down in front of the prince and Viserys began scanning the tree in earnest. Myrine took great pleasure in watching Viserys's reaction change from determination to awe as he realized that his fiancée was right. She did not miss a single ancestor. Viserys looked up from the scroll at Myrine and back again, while Gerardys looked at the young children confused.

"How about after the Conqueror?" Viserys challenged, and Myrine happily accepted.

"Easy—" she began before she was interrupted by Viserys.

"Wait, name all of my great-grandparents thirteen children instead."

"Alright." Myrine said cheerfully. "Aegon, Alyssa, Aemon, Baelon, Daella, Aeryn, Vaegon, Maegelle, Valerion, Viserra, Gaemon, Saera, and Gael."

Viserys looked at the gobsmacked Gerardys for confirmation.

"Gerardys? Is she correct?" He asked with some trepidation. It appeared that the old man did not hear him, and the prince was about to repeat himself when Gerardys answered.

"Yes, she is correct." He said. "And they are all in the correct order of birth too."

Myrine beamed at her victory. However, Viserys was not done yet.

"Now name my ancestors after the Conqueror."

Smiling, Myrine once again amazed her fiancé and the Grandmaester with her detailed memory. Little by little, Myrine grew more confident. It was a rough start, but she began believing that there was still hope that the Red Keep could become her home and the people within her family. Of course her heart ached for her family back at Duskendale, but the pain began to fade somewhat. That night, she slept peacefully for the first time since she had first learned about her betrothal.

 ** _So ends the final introductory chapter! Myrine has Aspberger's Syndrome. Besides problems developing social skills, people with Aspberger's Syndrome also have an increased sensitivity to stimuli like light, noise, and even texture. Unlike Princess Jaehaera, Myrine is high-functioning, and will be able to lead a normal life without much assistance. I thought was fitting to give one of Rhaenyra's sons a bride from House Darklyn since they were one of their most loyal houses. After this, I am going to take a small break. I will be working on other stories (in fact, I am planning for this story to be the first in a series of alternate history stories for ASOIAF. It will be known as the "Queen Series"), and also coming up with the next chapter for this one. Thank you for your time, and please review! :)_**


	16. House Darklyn circa 131 AC

**_Here is the last family list!_**

 ** _Myrine Darklyn_**

• **Grandparents** :

 _Paternal_

oKreon Darklyn ( _grandfather_ )

oRhiannon Westerling ( _grandmother/maternal second cousin twice removed_ ) – Kreon's third wife. Rhiannon and Kreon have a thirty year age difference between them. She is the mother of her husband's three final children: twins Horace and Henry, and Meredyth. Rhiannon was the second cousin of Felicia Westerling, and the daughter of the Lord of the Crag. 

_Maternal_

oAmbrose Stokeworth ( _grandfather_ )

oFelicia Westerling ( _grandmother/paternal second cousin twice removed_ ) – Second cousin to Rhiannon Westerling.

• **Parents: (Third Cousins)**

oAnise Stokeworth ( _mother/paternal third cousin once removed_ ) – She is two years older than her husband.

oHorace Darklyn ( _father/maternal third cousin once removed_ ) – Older twin brother of Henry. Horace is two years younger than his wife.

• _Siblings_ :

oRodrik Darklyn ( _older brother/fourth cousin_ )

oJenefer Darklyn ( _older sister/fourth cousin_ ) – Engaged to Austin Bracken, and will be the future grandmother to Barba and Bethany Bracken. In canon, both Barba and Bethany were the respective fifth and seventh mistresses of King Aegon IV Targaryen. Barba was the mother of one of Aegon's Great Bastards, Aegor "Bittersteel" Rivers. 

oWyllis Darklyn ( _older brother/fourth cousin_ )

oConnor Darklyn ( _younger brother/fourth cousin_ )

• **Aunts/Uncles** :

 _Paternal_

oHenry Darklyn ( _uncle/maternal third cousin once removed_ ) – Younger twin brother of Horace. 

Tacia Dayne ( _aunt through marriage_ ) - The daughter of the Lord of Starfall. 

oMeredyth Darklyn ( _aunt/maternal third cousin once removed_ )

Silas Caron ( _ex-uncle through marriage_ ) - Annulled his marriage to Meredyth due to her being unable to bear children. 

_Maternal_

oAlexander Stokeworth ( _uncle/paternal third cousin once removed_ )

Unnamed aunt through marriage

oMartyn Stokeworth ( _uncle/paternal third cousin once removed_ )

oLeah Stokeworth ( _aunt/paternal third cousin once removed_ )

oElinor Stokeworth ( _aunt/paternal third cousin once removed_ )

• **Step-Aunt/Uncle:**

 _Adrianna Hollard_

oTymieon Reyne ( _second cousin once removed/step-uncle_ ) – Adrianna's son by her first husband, Ser Myles Reyne.

• **Half-Aunts/Half-Uncles** :

 _Kreon and Susannah Darklyn_

oSer Steffon Darklyn ( _half-uncle/second cousin once removed)_

 _Kreon Darklyn and Adrianna Hollard_

oTheodosia Darklyn ( _half-aunt/second cousin once removed_ )

Albrecht Royce ( _half-uncle through marriage_ )

oSepta Cecilia Darklyn ( _half-aunt/second cousin once removed)_

oJosephine Darklyn ( _half-aunt/second cousin once removed_ )

Gormon Massey ( _half-uncle through marriage)_ – Rhaenyra I's Master of Coin

 _Ambrose Stokeworth and Dahlia_

oFalena Waters ( _bastard half-aunt/paternal third cousin once removed_ ) – The first mistress of King Aegon IV Targaryen in the canon storyline. She did not have a background so I made one for her. Falena will be legitimized and will play a special role later in the story. 

• **Step-Half-Cousins:**

 _Theodosia Darklyn and Albrecht Royce_

oWillem Royce ( _step-half-first cousin)_

Lyonel Royce ( _step-half-first cousin once removed)_

oRhea Royce ( _step-half-first cousin)_ \- King Daemon Targaryen's much loathed first wife. Just like with her husband, Rhea despised her stepmother Theodosia. 

• **Half-Cousins:**

 _Theodosia Darklyn and Albrecht Royce_

oAloyn Royce ( _half-first cousin/second cousin_ )

 _Josephine Darklyn and Gormon Massey_

oTen unnamed half-first cousins – Five boys and five girls, although only seven have lived to adulthood. Josephine lost two sons: one during infancy and the other to disease, and one daughter who also died from an illness.

• **Cousins** :

 _Kreon Darklyn_

oSusannah Darklyn (first cousin twice removed) – Kreon Darklyn's cousin and first wife as well as the mother of his first child, Ser Steffon Darklyn. She died giving birth to her son. Ser Lammert was Susannah's younger brother. 

oSer Lammert Darklyn ( _first cousin twice removed_ ) – Younger brother of Susannah Darklyn, the first wife of their cousin Kreon.

Sandor Darklyn ( _second cousin once removed)_

Septa Berenice Darklyn ( _second cousin once removed_ )

oAdrianna Hollard ( _first cousin twice removed_ ) – Kreon's cousin and second wife. Adrianna was the daughter of Kreon's paternal aunt. Widowed after the death of her first husband, Ser Myles Reyne, Adrianna eventually married her cousin Kreon. Her son by Myles, Tymieon, became Kreon's stepson. The couple would have three daughters together: Theodosia, Cecilia, and Josephine. 

Adrianna died from exsanguination caused by a burst fallopian tube as a result of an ectopic pregnancy.

 _Henry Darklyn and Tacia Dayne_

oAndrew Darklyn ( _paternal first cousin/maternal fourth cousin_ )

oHamlyn Darklyn ( _paternal first cousin/maternal fourth cousin)_

oJulien Darklyn ( _paternal first cousin/maternal fourth cousin_ )

oPercival Darklyn ( _paternal first cousin/maternal fourth cousin_ )

oSibela and Selena Darklyn ( _twin paternal first cousins/fourth cousins_ )

oJocea Darklyn ( _paternal first cousin_ ) – Tacia's unborn child.

 _Alexander Stokeworth_

oDominic Stokeworth ( _maternal first cousin/paternal fourth cousin_ )

 ** _Kreon Darklyn_**

• **Spouses** :

oSusannah Darklyn ( _first cousin/first wife_ ) – The daughter of Kreon's paternal uncle. 

oAdrianna Hollard ( _first cousin/second wife_ ) – The daughter of Kreon's paternal aunt. 

oRhiannon Westerling ( _third wife_ )

• **Stepchild** :

 _Adrianna Hollard_

oTymieon Reyne (first cousin once removed/stepson) – The only son of Adrianna Hollard and her first husband, Ser Myles Reyne. When his stepbrother joined the Kingsguard, Kreon named Tymieon as his heir because of his Darklyn lineage. However, Tymieon was summoned back to Castamere by his grandmother after his uncle died without any male heirs. Stepfather and stepson argued daily over the succession issue, but in the end, Tymieon returned to the Westerlands to claim his birthright. Because of this, neither Kreon nor Tymieon would speak to each other again. 

• **Children** :

 _Susannah Darklyn_

oSer Steffon Darklyn ( _son/first cousin once removed_ )

 _Adrianna Hollard_

oTheodosia Darklyn ( _daughter/first cousin once removed_ )

oSepta Cecilia Darklyn ( _daughter/first cousin once removed_ )

oJosephine Darklyn ( _daughter/first cousin once removed_ )

 _Rhiannon Westerling_

oHorace and Henry Darklyn ( _twin sons)_

oMeredyth Darklyn ( _daughter_ )

• **Children-in-Law:**

 _Theodosia Darklyn_

oAlbrecht Royce ( _son-in-law_ ) – Theodosia was Albrecht's second Lady of Runestone.

 _Josephine Darklyn_

oGormon Massey ( _son-in-law)_

 _Horace Darklyn_

oAnise Stokeworth ( _daughter-in-law_ ) – Both Horace and Anise are maternal third cousins.

 _Henry Darklyn_

oTacia Dayne ( _daughter-in-law_ )

 _Meredyth Darklyn_

oSilas Caron ( _ex-son-in-law_ ) – Marriage to the Lord of Nightsong was annulled due to Meredyth being sterile. 

• **Step-Grandchildren:**

 _Albrecht Royce_

oWillem Royce ( _step-grandson_ )

oRhea Royce ( _step-granddaughter_ )

• **Grandchildren:**

 _Theodosia Darklyn and Albrecht Royce_

oAloyn Royce ( _grandson/first cousin twice removed_ )

 _Josephine Darklyn and Gormon Massey_

oTen grandchildren/first cousins twice removed – Five grandsons and five granddaughters. Two boys and one girl died during childhood.

 _Horace Darklyn and Anise Stokeworth_

oRodrik Darklyn ( _grandson_ )

oJenefer Darklyn ( _granddaughter_ )

oWyllis Darklyn ( _grandson_ )

oMyrine Darklyn ( _granddaughter_ )

oConnor Darklyn ( _grandson_ )

 _Henry Darklyn and Tacia Dayne_

oAndrew Darklyn ( _grandson_ )

oHamlyn Darklyn ( _grandson_ )

oJulien Darklyn ( _grandson_ )

oPercival Darklyn ( _grandson_ )

oSibella and Selena Darklyn ( _twin granddaughters_ )

oJocea Darklyn ( _granddaughter_ )

• **Step-Great-Grandchild:**

 _Willem Royce_

oLyonel Royce ( _step-great-grandson)_

• **Aunts/Uncles** :

 _Susannah Darklyn_

oUnnamed paternal uncle/first father-in-law

 _Adrianna Darklyn_

oUnnamed paternal aunt/second mother-in-law

• **Cousins** :

Ser Lammert Darklyn ( _first cousin/former brother-in-law_ ) – The younger brother of Susannah Darklyn.

oSer Sandor Darklyn ( _first cousin once removed_ )

oSepta Berenice Darklyn ( _first cousin once removed_ )


	17. Chapter 12: The Calm and The Fury

**Hi everyone! Sorry for the long delay in posting this chapter, but I have been busy with my other stories as well as getting a promotion at work. Anyways, without further adieu, please enjoy!**

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 **131** **AC –** **133** **AC**

Queen for only two years by 131 AC, the reign of the first ruling queen of Westeros had already proved to be an interesting one. Seven hells, prior to her even being crowned in 129 AC, Rhaenyra had secured her birthright through a conspiracy cooked up by her late father and three trusted associates, exiled her stepfamily, and two younger half-brothers to Oldtown, and kept her remaining half-siblings and their three young children as hostages at the Red Keep. Shortly after she was crowned that same year, Rhaenyra had to deal with the frustrating Triarchy Trade Dispute, which in her mind was a puerile reaction by the Three Daughters magistrates in regards to her uncle, their former archenemy, being her consort. During her first year in 130 AC, Rhaenyra had to contend with a rebellion headed by her father's former Master of Laws and Green sympathizer, Jasper Wylde. Thankfully the Wylde Rebellion ended without any loss of life on the Blacks side, and House Wylde bent the knee to Rhaenyra the First of Her Name.

Adding to the queen's problems, she had to deal with a long and vicious winter season that had set in unpredictably. Despite everything that both the Blacks and Greens had gone through during those first two years, there was some joy to be had. There were marriages, betrothals, and births, and House Targaryen in both the Crownlands and the Reach grey in wealth and size. Besides becoming a grandmother for the first time following the births of Prince Baelor and Princess Alysanne Targaryen, Rhaenyra would welcome three more grandchildren between the years 131 AC and 133 AC. The joy felt by the Realm's Delight about the increase in grandchildren cannot accurately be described in writing.

Four months pregnant at the time of her stepbrother, Prince Jofferey Velaryon's wedding to Lady Nell Beesbury in 131 AC, Rhaena Targaryen gave birth to her and Luke's second daughter together five months later. Born with fair silver-gold hair and bluish-purple eyes, the beautiful newborn princess was christened with the name Laena Targaryen, in honor of her late maternal grandmother, Laena Velaryon. Needless to say, the Pearl of the Tides parents, Lord Corlys Velaryon and Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, were touched by their grandchildren's choice of name for their daughter. However, the fifteen year old mother of two began suffering from terrible headaches, blurred vision, and even pain stemming from the right side of her chest (postpartum preeclampsia) two days after giving birth to Laena, greatly alarming her family. Rhaena would recover a month after her daughter's birth, but Grandmaester Gerardys advised Prince Lucerys to not impregnate Rhaena again for a year so that her body could heal properly.

In 132 AC, Luke's brothers Jace and Joff gave their dear mother two more grandchildren. Prince Jacaerys and Baela welcomed their second child mid-way through the year: Princess Alyssa Targaryen. Unlike her older brother Baelor, Alyssa had every Targaryen feature; she was born with a full head of beautiful platinum colored hair that had a silvery sheen to it, and indigo eyes. The crown prince took pride in his daughter's Targaryen appearance, for it was proof that the blood of the dragon flowed strongly through his veins. Of course this did not stop the rumors of the Velaryon Brother's dubious paternity however.

A few months after his niece's birth, Prince Jofferey and his wife Nell, who had become pregnant near the end of 131 AC, had their first son together, Prince Aeric Targaryen. Unlike his eldest cousin Baelor, who had brown hair but Targaryen purple eyes, Aeric looked exactly like his father with brown hair and eyes and a pug nose. He was also quite a big baby at birth, and poor Nell was exhausted after bearing Aeric. Lacking his royal house's physical traits did not mean Aeric was less loved; his parents adored him, and his father proudly showed off his baby son to his family after the boy's birth.

Southward in the Reach, Alicent Hightower welcomed three more grandchildren of her own by her two youngest sons. In 131 AC, Lord Aemond Targaryen gained another bastard daughter, this time her mother being his paramour, Alys Rivers, the pyromancer who had performed at his brother's wedding just ten months earlier. The baby, Naerya Rivers, had black hair and grey eyes just like her mother, but her father's dragon blood did show itself through partial heterochromia; the iris of Naerya's right eye possessed a purple "streak" that ran diagonally down from the left side of her pupil. Naerya was born just ten months after her older half-sister, Lily Flowers. Aemond's mother, although pleased that her granddaughter was born healthy, was also displeased that another bastard had been born into the family, and she greatly disapproved of her son's pagan lover.

The feeling was mutual with Alys as well.

Later that same year, Lord Daeron Targaryen and his wife and second cousin, Lilith Hightower, had their first child together. Only thirteen years old when she underwent childbirth for the first time, Lilith obviously suffered during the labor. Thankfully, Lilith pulled through and she delivered a healthy baby boy. Much to Daeron's delight, his son looked exactly like him with indigo eyes and a fine head of silver-gold hair. The smitten new father proudly named his firstborn Crispin, a break from the traditional Valyrian names; a sign that Daeron had accepted his new station in life as a lord.

Lilith would recover from her son's birth, and despite the strain childbirth wrought upon her young body, she was still strong enough to bear Daeron another son the following year. Just like his older brother, this baby boy was also given a Common Tongue name: Johan. Unlike Crispin, Johan had his mother's brown hair and eyes. The brothers' paternal grandmother was absolutely thrilled about the births of her first legitimate grandchildren in five years. Unlike with her bastard granddaughters, Alicent proudly showed off her grandsons to her family members and she was always with them and their mother at almost every hour of the day.

Alicent's interaction with Lily and Naerya gradually lessened over time after the births of Crispin and Johan.

Besides humans, two new dragons also came into the world. Both were born to the two youngest members of the royal family at the Red Keep. The first one was born to Prince Maelor. The hatching occurred during an evening when a spectacular event was taking place. One cold night in 131 AC, a meteor shower was spotted in the heavens, and the royal family put on their cloaks and furs and ventured out onto the castle's veranda to watch the rare event.

As usual, little Maelor had brought his prized egg outside into the cold with him. To keep the egg warm, Helaena had Maelor put it between her feet beneath her skirts. While the family's eyes were looking heavenward towards the falling stars, Maelor's egg began to tremble. Helaena felt something tapping against her ankles, and when she rose her skirts up, she found her son's egg to be shuddering with streams of cracks spreading all over the shell. The excited princess called for her family's attention to the egg, and soon the hatchling broke free from its shell.

The hatchling's egg had been grey with sapphire flecks, and his scales mirrored that; grey with a blue jewel like shimmer when illuminated by a passing light. The hatchling also had blue wing membranes and eyes, grey crest and horns, and black teeth and claws. Maelor was absolutely thrilled about the birth of his dragon, and that night, Helaena tucked in both her youngest son and his hatchling together in bed. Because he was born during a meteor shower, the hatchling was named "Meteor". Just like his half-cousin Viserys and his dragon Ravenscale, Maelor and Meteor were inseparable after the hatching.

The second dragon was born to Princess Visenya the year after Meteor had hatched. After a small council meeting had ended, Queen Rhaenyra traveled from the chamber to visit her only daughter's nursery. When Rhaenyra opened the doors to Visenya's room, she found both her three year old toddler and her nursemaid gathered around something in the middle of the floor. Turning to see who had come in, the nursemaid stood up ramrod straight while little Visenya toddled over to her mother with outstretched arms.

"Mama! Mama!" The little girl squeaked happily as she made her way towards the queen. Rhaenyra happily scooped her youngest child up in her arms and gave her a small peck on the cheek. Before she could ask about what was going on, Visenya piped up.

"Dwagon mama! Dwagon!"

"Dragon? Your egg hatched?" Rhaenyra inquired in an excited, motherly tone. She looked down at the floor and saw the broken dragon egg and the hatchling. Her scales were grey, and they shined like polished steel in the light of the midday sun, and her belly and wing membranes were white as snow. Visenya squirmed in her mother's arms, and Rhaenyra gently placed her daughter back down on the Myrish carpet.

The little princess toddled over towards her future mount and she plopped down in front of it. Visenya reached out with a tiny hand to try and pet the dragon, but the little creature flinched under the princess's touch and she backed, making low hissing noises all the while. Despite this, the princess persisted in trying to interact with her dragon. Rhaenyra became concerned when she saw the latent aggression in her daughter's dragon.

"Sweetling, I do not you think you should—"

Visenya had tried to touch the dragon's forehead with the tip of her finger when the little beast suddenly lunged forward and snapped at the princess. The hatchling's transparent teeth bit the tender flesh of the princess's fingertip, causing the little girl to cry out in pain and begin sobbing. Both the queen and the nursemaid rushed over to Visenya. Rhaenyra looked at her crying daughter's finger, and to her great surprise, she found that the dragon's teeth had broken the skin and blood was seeping out. Concern turned to rage, and Rhaenyra collected Visenya into her arms before she kicked the hatchling.

"You wretched thing!" She snarled as her foot hit home on the dragon's body.

The hatchling fell backward from the blow with a pained screech. She soon righted herself and dug her wing claws into the floor and hissed deeply at the queen, her amber eyes becoming menacing. Disturbed by the hatchling's aggressive behavior, Rhaenyra ordered the nursemaid to summon servants to get a cage to imprison the vicious creature for the time being. After having Visenya's injured finger bandaged up by Grandmaester Gerardys, both her and Rhaenyra went to Daemon to inform him about the incident. Upon being told about what had happened, the first thing Daemon wanted to do was to kill the hatchling, but his daughter became distressed when she the word 'kill', so Daemon did not go through with it.

Instead, Daemon decided to teach Visenya a lesson in asserting dominance. Taking the toddler princess in arms, Daemon went to Visenya's nursery. Inside, father and daughter found the baby dragon to be struggling fiercely in her cage, biting at the bars and thrashing about wildly. Visenya tensed up and clung tightly to her father's chest at the sight. Daemon soothed Visenya and placed her back on her bed before approaching the cage.

Without a word, he opened the cage door and grabbed the furious hatchling. The little dragon's fury grew even worse, and she began to bite at Daemon's hand and knuckles. Daemon's eyebrow twitched, the only indication that he was hurt, but other than that, his face was one of pure annoyance. As the hatchling sank her teeth into the knuckle of Daemon's middle finger, he flicked her hard on the head. The dragon let go with an astonished hiss, and she glared at Daemon with wide amber eyes.

"Enough of that now." Daemon said gruffly, his finger in the dragon's face. The hatchling slowly reared her head back in preparation to strike. But Daemon was faster, and he flicked the creature's small head again, this time hitting her in eye. "What did I just say to you little shi—, uh, cretin."

Daemon corrected himself when he remembered that little Visenya was with him. "That is what will happen to you if keep biting your mistress. If I ever hear of you snapping at her again, I will pop your head off like a dandelion. You understand me?"

Dragons are intelligent creatures; even shortly after hatching they are capable of learning basic commands and who to listen to. Shortly after Daemon disciplined his youngest child's hatchling, the two became closer and the dragon began to tolerate her young mistress's invasive pokes and rubs. The hatchling's aggression reminded Daemon of a goddess from Old Valyria, Dyannerys. Not much was known about the ancient deity except for some surviving texts that stated that Dyannerys was a warrior goddess known for her ferocity and that she was the sister-wife of one of the Valyrian gods. Supposedly, Dyannerys was worshipped by Princess Visenya's namesake, the first Targaryen queen.

But just as new life was born, death came to end the old. Just a year after Myrine Darklyn's debut at the Targaryen court, a raven arrived from Duskendale, the letter it carried bore a black wax seal. With her aunt Josephine by her side, Myrine listened as her uncle through marriage, Gormon Massey, the Master of Coin, read aloud the news that her grandfather, Kreon Darklyn, had passed away at the age of seventy-eight. When informed of the passing of Myrine's beloved grandfather, Queen Rhaenyra gave the Master of Coin permission to take both his wife and her niece to Duskendale to attend Kreon's funeral.

Although the two were not exactly close, Prince Viserys did comfort his fiancée when she relayed the sad news to him during their last arranged meeting before Myrine departed for home. Myrine's younger brother Connor was thrilled to see his favorite big sister. Although the rest of the family greeted Myrine warmly, they seemed to act distant towards Myrine, as if she were a stranger rather than a daughter, niece, or cousin. Perhaps the Darklyn's wanted the little girl's second departure from home to not be as difficult as the first one had been due to her being so emotional? Whether or not that was the reason, Myrine was hurt by this coldness, and she was actually happy to return to the Red Keep and rejoin the company of Thea Celtigar and Princess Jaehaera Targaryen.

The following year in 132 AC, Corlys Velaryon died at the age of seventy-nine. His death, although expected due to his advanced age, stunned House Targaryen and their allies nevertheless. Tributes poured in from both the nobility of the Seven Kingdoms and Essos, some from as far as Volantis and Qarth. Although the two families were fierce rivals, House Hightower expressed their condolences to House Velaryon for their mighty patriarch's passing. The widowed Princess Rhaenys even received a letter from her former cousin-in-law, Alicent, that relayed her sympathy to the princess regarding her husband's passing; a man who had replaced Alicent's father as Hand after the Black Conspiracy.

Corlys had been many things during his long life: adventurer, merchant, Lord of the Tides and Master of Driftmark, husband of a royal princess, first father-in-law to a crown princess, and the first Hand of the Queen in House Targaryen's history to the realm's very first reigning queen. After his death, Queen Rhaenyra had Corlys's body laid in state before the Iron Throne for seven days. She opened the Red Keep's doors to allow both aristocrats and commoners to stream in and pay their last respects to the "Sea Snake". During this time, Rhaenyra sent a raven to Dragonstone to summon her eldest son Jacaerys to come to the Red Keep to become her new Hand of the Queen. After a large funeral at the capitol, Corlys's body was taken home by his family to Driftmark for a smaller funeral attended by the Velaryon's and Targaryen's.

After his passing, Addam Velaryon, the legitimized, and rumored, bastard son of the late Ser Laenor Velaryon (some say Corlys himself), ascended as the new Lord of the Tides and Master of Driftmark. Having outlived both her children and now her husband, the now widowed Princess Rhaenys Targaryen found solace in the company of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren after Baela and Rhaena had arrived with their families from Dragonstone. As Westeros began to move on from the Sea Snake's passing, a key contemporary figure in Essos would meet her end as well. However, unlike Corlys, this individual did not die of old age, and their death would trigger a series of events that would lead to anarchy and bloodshed the likes which had not been seen since the Century of Blood. And it all began during a quiet evening in Lys.

As the sun sank below the horizon on the Narrow Sea, the high ranking courtesans of Lys anointed their skin with fragrant perfumes and dressed themselves in fine silks or transparent veil like garments to entice their nocturnal male clientele. One particular brothel attracted some of the richest and most powerful men in Lys. As the villa like structure filled with men seeking the company of their city's finest courtesans, a hooded man quietly snuck through the chattering crowd unseen. Quietly he made his way through the marble and gold leaf halls towards the chambers belonging to the brothel's most prized lady of the night. Without making a sound, the man pushed open the unlocked door and crept inside the opulent room.

Up ahead in a small garden atrium were the man's targets. They were sitting in chairs partaking in fine wine and pleasurable conversation. Both their backs were turned to the unseen intruder. Quickly he snuck up behind the man and in one swift motion, the assassin slit his throat. Blood as red as the wine in the goblets poured from the man's throat and his female companion screamed in terror, the murderer soon turning his attention towards her…

The screaming alerted the brothel guards and they rushed towards the chamber. When they burst through the doors, they found the courtesan on her back in a pool of her own blood trying to fend off her attacker. The guards tackled the man and got him off of the bleeding, hysterical woman before he could do more harm. As the man was dragged off to be imprisoned, his intended victim bled to death shortly after his departure. The identity of this woman was Johanna Swann, known more famously as the "Black Swan".

She was the most famous courtesan in Lys, and was sought after by men from not only the highest echelons of Lysene society, but from Myr and Tyrosh as well. In fact, the Black Swan's last companion that night, the first murder victim, was a well regarded Lysene admiral. News of the prolific double murder hit Lys like a tidal wave. Many mourned the passing of the Westerosi born courtesan, especially her numerous high ranking lovers. These powerful men wanted justice for their slain lover.

The assassin was brutally tortured for the identity of the individual who had hired him. When the torturer stretched the murderer on the rack, the man confessed. He admitted that a powerful magister visiting from Tyrosh had paid for the murders due to the Black Swan being outspoken against the trade boycott with Westeros and because he saw the admiral as a political rival. Shortly after the confession had been made, the assassin was beheaded, and the magister was arrested. First a gruesome double murder, and now with the revelation that a prominent politician had ordered the slayings rocked Lys to its core.

Things got even more heated when the magister was later found dead in his cell, his throat slashed so deeply that his head was almost severed from his body. These deaths, whose cause stemmed from the controversial Triarchy Trade Dispute, was only but a series of bloody and disconcerting events that occurred during the Three Sisters downward spiral. For three years since the inception of the trade boycott, the cities of the Triarchy had witnessed a steady decline. Since trading was the backbone of the Triarchy's economy, cutting off trade with their biggest trade partner due to old wounds from the past proved of course to be a phenomenal stupid idea. It was especially stupid since Westeros was the Triarchy's main source of imported foodstuffs since the farms on mainland Essos could not feed the large urban populations.

The problem was further worsened when Pentos, Lorath, and Braavos began exporting grain to Westeros after the onset of winter. Although they were rivals, the Triarchy had imported grain from those three cities before in the past. However, Pentos, Lorath, and Braavos could not afford to export anymore grain, so the Triarchy's citizens were on their own. Needless to say, the situation for the Triarchy became very dire indeed. Merchant vessels sat idly in the harbors, unemployment became rampant, and food prices went up along with discontent with the government.

Now after three brutal murders, the Triarchy magisters infighting became even more ferocious. During one heated meeting, a Myrish magistrate pulled out a dagger and stabbed a Tyroshi peer to death with it. This was the last straw for the Triarchy, and the Three Sisters declared war on each other. War ships clashed in the harbors of the cities while soldiers spilled each other's blood and gore onto the cobbled streets of Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh. A war fought in such close quarters soon resulted in anarchy breaking out amongst the common born populace.

Hungry, out of work, and frustrated with how things had been going for the Triarchy, the citizens of the Three Sisters threw away all semblance of civility and began to wreak havoc in the streets. Shops were robbed clean of everything they had, be they food or other goods; the homes of the wealthy were overrun by angry commoners wanting revenge against the magisters and merchants whom they blamed for causing the chaos that was now happening. They would drag the families out into the streets and bludgeon their patriarch to death while his family was either forced to watch or suffered a gruesome fate of their own. Meanwhile, the villas and manses were vandalized and stripped of furnishings as their owners were being brutalized. Murder and rape became commonplace as the law and order disappeared altogether during the horrific chaos.

News of the chaos spread throughout Essos, and it soon made its way to Westeros. Merchants spoke glibly about how the Triarchy deserved this fate for being such prideful fools, while House Velaryon celebrated the eventual downfall of their most hated nemesis. Seeing an opportunity to finally end the foolish Triarchy Trade Dispute on her terms, Queen Rhaenyra ordered Grandmaester Gerardys to send ravens to Braavos, Pentos, and Lorath to summon their most powerful lords, admirals, and generals to the Red Keep. A few days later, a flotilla of ornately decorated ships arrived at the docks of Blackwater Bay, and men wearing fine clothes and speaking with exotic accents disembarked and were greeted by a royal cortège that soon led them to the Red Keep. The diverse group was shepherded to the council chamber, where they met the queen, her consort, and her small council.

There, the Essosi entourage and their Westerosi hosts discussed forming an alliance to help in finally bringing down the Triarchy and to restore peace to the Three Sisters. The condition of this coalition was that the Targaryen's would be the ones to draw up the peace treaty with the Three Sisters after the conflict's end so that the name of House Targaryen would remind the Lysene, Myrmen, and Tyroshi that it was the Dragon Queen, the woman whom their leaders had spurned, who had brought back stability to their homelands. In return for allowing Rhaenyra to bring Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh back on their feet once they were defeated, Braavos, Pentos, and Lorath were allowed jurisdiction over one of the cities to prevent the Triarchy from being reborn. The magisters agreed to these terms, and the alliance became official. Shortly afterwards, talk of alliances soon to turned to battle strategies.

This coalition would spawn a massive force, the likes of which had not been seen since Aegon's Conquest. The navy consisted not only of ships from the allied three cities, but also armaments from Houses Celtigar, Velaryon, Arryn, Darklyn, and other houses. The Free City armies consisted of sellswords and proper warriors; altogether a force thirty-five thousand men. The knights hailed mostly from the Crownlands, but there also ones from the Stormland's, and the Vale as well. It was an amazing sight to behold, seeing banners bearing stags, sea horses, falcons, and crabs amongst other heraldry.

Three members of Rhaenyra's Queensguard, Lord Commander Steffon Darklyn (plus his squire Harrold Darke), and Sers Lyonel Bentley and Adrian Redfort. Leading this mighty force were six Targaryen dragons and their riders: Daemon and Caraxes, who were leading the whole force; Rhaenys and Meleys, Jacaerys and Vermax, Lucerys and Arrax, Jofferey and Tyraxes, and surprisingly of all, Aegon the Elder and his precious Sunfyre. It was without question that the queen's half-brother had joined forces with his hated half-sister not out of a newfound sense of loyalty, but rather out of a desire to get out of the Red Keep. This all seemed a bit much, but one could never be too cautious during a conflict.

A little over a month after the alliance was forged, the army set sail for the Triarchy at dawn. Half-way across the sea, the navy split into three portions so that they could attack the individual Three Sisters, with two dragons accompanying each fleet, with King Daemon and his second stepson, Prince Lucerys, led their fleet towards Tyrosh; Prince Jacaerys and his younger brother, Prince Jofferey, flew to Lys; and Princess Rhaenys and her late cousin's oldest son, Prince Aegon the Elder, headed towards Myr. Besides his cousin once removed, Aegon was also accompanied by his squire, Edmund. He was actually flying with Aegon on Sunfyre. When Myr was spotted at midday, Sunfyre and Meleys roared and the air became charged with exhilaration. As the prince braced himself for battle, Edmund whispered a prayer to himself, and prepared to face the battle to come.

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 **Lots of info to take in, but a battle is in the next chapter. Anyway, here is some trivia about this chapter:**

 **1\. The name of Princess Visenya's dragon, Dyannerys, was inspired by Dianna, the Roman goddess of the hunt (Greek equivalent being Artemis). I was originally, way back, going to call the dragon Huntress, but I wanted to give it a Valyrian spin to it. And so, Dianna, a deity of the hunt, became Dyannerys.**

 **2\. It is unknown who Corlys's parents are since they not mentioned in any supplementary material. So I made them up. I thought it was kind of fitting to give Rhaena Targaryen a good ending by marrying her to a man she would find happiness and stability with after losing her first husband and younger brother, Prince Aegon Targaryen, during the Battle Beneath the God's Eye, and after being forced to marry her own half-uncle, King Maegor I Targaryen.**

 **I have made a timeline for Reign of the Dragon Queen in order to keep track of everything. I am also planning on publishing it later after this story is done (which may take forever). :)**

 **Enjoy the next chapter!**


	18. Chapter 13: All the Queen's Men

**Here is the next chapter. The OC Edmund shall be formerly introduced. Enjoy! :)**

 **Author's Note:** **Blood and gore ahead.**

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 **133** **AC**

The Triarchy Civil War had been going on for five months, starting late of last year in 132 AC, and continuing on fiercely through 133 AC. During those five months, the queen's hostages did their best to keep their distance from royal politics and intrigue. Regardless, Prince Aegon and his sister-wife, Princess Helaena, brought their children up in comfort. Nine year old Prince Jaehaerys was growing like a weed, and his budding talent with swordplay was a source of immense pride for his father. His twin sister, Princess Jaehaera, although mostly quiet and reserved, was becoming more interactive and extroverted thanks to the companionship of her two ladies-in-waiting: Thea Celtigar and Myrine Darklyn.

Prince Maelor was a happy, energetic six year old boy who loved to zip around the royal gardens pretending that he was riding a horse and fighting invisible enemies with his toy sword and shield. Accompanying the little prince on his adventures was his dragon Meteor. He would follow his master, and would breath small jets of flame at Maelor's imaginary foes. Other days, Maelor would be joined by his siblings and half-cousins. He would sometimes role-play as the knight in shining armor to save the damsel in distress, who was always his fiancee, Princess Visenya.

Jaehaerys would "kidnap" his four year old half-cousin and Maelor would charge after him. Princess Visenya would giggle madly in her cousin's arms while her fiancé shouted out statements like "unhand her" or "release her and you shall be spared". Besides saving his cousin from "evil dragons", Maelor would hold mock jousts in the garden. Maelor and his brother and male cousins would ask for the favor of their respective betrothed; Visenya would just give Maelor a pebble or a clump of grass in lieu of a handkerchief. With bated breath, both the girls and the dragons of the royal children watched as the boys charged at each other with fake lances, cheering when their "knight" had won (the older boys often let little Maelor win though).

But the bubble of protection that Aegon and Helaena had built around their family could not shield them from the outside world forever. Edmund was the family's connection to the goings on of their half-sister's court, keeping them informed of special events like births, deaths, and moments of discord. When Edmund told Aegon about the coalition between House Targaryen and Essos, the Elder Prince stood up from his chair.

"I will lend my sword to this conflict." Aegon said. Helaena's eyes widened and she blinked.

"You… You are going to fight for our sister."

Aegon snorted at his sister-wife's words.

"Of course not. Ever since Rhaenyra became queen, I have been bored out of my senses. All we do is mill about here or go hunting or hawking in the Kingswood. I would like to put my swordplay into use before I forget it."

"But from Edmund has told us," Helaena replied, "Rhaenyra and Uncle Daemon have amassed a big enough force—" Aegon cut is his sister off rudely.

"Yes, I know Helaena. I do not think our sister or uncle would mind an extra dragon in their army."

Prince Jaehaerys looked up from his world atlas with wide, hopeful eyes.

"Can I come with you papa? Shrykos has gotten big enough for me to fly…"

"Absolutely not!" Shouted both Aegon and Helaena, causing Jaehaerys to meekly sink back into his chair. Realizing that they had scared their eldest son, brother and sister rushed to his side to comfort him.

"I am sorry for shouting at you son", Aegon said with a gentle hand on Jaehaerys's back. "But you are too young fight in a battle yet."

"Exactly my darling." Helaena added. "Your eagerness to fight for House Targaryen is commendable, but you have not reached your tens. You are still a boy."

"I will be ten in just three more months!" Jaehaerys whined, but his complaint died when he felt his father's grip on his shoulder tighten.

"Jaehaerys, do not argue with us." Aegon said in stern tone.

Seeing her son's sullen expression brought out Helaena's motherly instincts, and she gently brushed his hair over his ear.

"Will anyone go with you then?" Jaehaerys asked quietly.

Aegon did not have to ponder his son's question long. He looked in the direction of his squire, who had been standing in the corner of the room for all this time.

"Yes," the prince said, "Edmund will come with me."

It was Edmund's turn to widen his eyes. But rather than being afraid, Edmund was excited.

"Really my lord? You want me to accompany you into battle?"

"Why yes of course." Aegon said. "You are my squire after all. It is your duty to follow me wherever I go. When you survive this war, I shall knight you Edmund."

Edmund could not help but grin, and that was that. Aegon relayed to Rhaenyra through Edmund his intentions to help with the coalition. The queen accepted, and the two men prepared for battle. When the hour for the army to depart came at dawn, both Aegon and Edmund got up and went to get suited up in their armor. As the servants were fastening their breastplates, the prince suddenly addressed his squire.

"What name would you like Edmund?"

Edmund gave his liege a bemused look. "What do you mean my lord?"

"What would you like to be called Edmund? You do not have a family name. Knight's have surnames, and even hedge knights come up with ones for themselves. So what would you like to be called?"

Edmund began to think hard. What should his surname be? His father had told him that his grandfather had originally hailed from Maidenpool, could he be Ser Edmund of Maidenpool? No, that did not seem right; Edmund had never set foot in the town, neither did Ser Edmund Gaoler, nor Ser Edmund Servile; both in honor of his grandfather and father's professions. Edmund furrowed his brow in frustration.

"How about "Naeryon"? Aegon said as he observed his squire's look. Edmund broke free of his clouded mind and he looked at his liege.

"Naeryon? A Valyrian name?"

"Not a name," Aegon began, "but a word. During my lessons as a boy, Maester Orwyle taught my siblings some Valyrian texts that had been deciphered at the Citadel by great-uncle Vaegon. "Naeryon" is the Valyrian word for "loyal". It is the origin of the Valyrian girl name Naerys."

Edmund was surprised by Aegon's sudden intellectual side. He had never thought that his lord cared much for reading or learning anything as cerebral as etymology (the study of words). But still, he liked Aegon's suggestion. Ser Edmund Naeryon, it had a nice ring to it. The squire nodded his head.

"I like it. That will be my family name."

Aegon the Elder smiled.

"Good. I'm glad."

Edmund's excitement grew when Aegon invited his squire to ride with him on Sunfryre. When they had gone to the Dragonpit, the home of the royal family's prized mounts, Edmund stood before the cell that held Sunfyre the Golden, the loveliest dragon to ever fly the skies of Westeros. Edmund had never been this close to any of the dragons before. He had been a page when Aegon had first invited him to see the dragons, but the terrified boy had declined. Believing that he was too scared to see the beasts, Aegon did not invite Edmund over anymore.

But now, Edmund was a man of nineteen years of age and was soon to fight in his first battle, he could not show fear now. As Aegon led his beloved Sunfyre out of his enclosure, Edmund stood straight as a post and did his best to keep himself from showing any sign of trepidation. Sunfyre was a tame creature, and he did not show any outward signs of aggression, much to Edmund's relief. But soon, Edmund's initial anxiety was replaced by awe. True to what he had heard, Sunfyre was a truly magnificent beast, for he had scales like beaten gold, wing membranes that were of the lightest pink, belly scales white as ivory, and eyes like sapphires.

Sunfyre was a large dragon, slightly smaller than Meleys the Red Queen, but no less formidable. The dragon acknowledged the strange man that stood before him, and he lowered his head and sniffed Edmund. The squire closed his eyes as he felt Sunfyre's exhale flow out of his nostrils.

"Sunfyre, this is my squire, Edmund. He is a friend. He is going to ride with us. Do you like him?"

Sunfyre narrowed his blue eyes at Edmund, as if he were looking for the most minute flaw so as to render his master's squire unworthy to ride him. After what felt like an eternity, Sunfyre grunted and he looked towards the opened gate at the end of the Dragonpit.

"He has accepted you Edmund." Aegon said, bringing Edmund out of his stupor and back to reality. The prince gestured towards his squire. "Come, help me get his saddle on, and then we will go." After performing this task, the men took off and joined the others on their way towards the Triarchy.

Flying a dragon was the most exhilarating feeling Edmund had ever known. The sensation of the dragon lifting off from the ground and watching the city below shrink, the feeling of the air currents blowing against his face, and the sound of the flapping wings, Edmund could not help but feel that the Targaryen's were part-god since it seemed that no ordinary man could tame these mighty dragons and make use of their power. Was this what Ronnel Arryn, the last King of Mountain and Vale, felt when Queen Visenya Targaryen took him for ride on Vahgar in return that his mother, Queen Regent Sharra Arryn, surrender the Vale to the Conqueror? Most likely, and Edmund could almost agree that riding a dragon was worth surrendering a kingdom for. But all thoughts of the King Who Flew and of lost kingdoms were quickly dashed away when Edmund heard from Aegon that Myr had been spotted.

Edmund took a deep breath and whispered a quick prayer. He could feel his bravery starting to seep out, and Edmund did his best to hold onto it. Looking over Aegon's shoulder, Edmund could see the large columns of smoke rising from the city along with orange glimmers of flame. Down below, Edmund could see some of the ships getting closer to the shoreline. Up ahead, Princess Rhaenys was already having Meleys burn down the harbor warehouses and marketplaces of Myr, chasing away the rioting citizens and soldiers.

Speaking of fire, Aegon saw that most of the docks had been burned away until only their support posts were left standing up through the water like charcoal stalagmites. Most of the merchant ships had been incinerated as well during the madness of the war. Without the docks, the army would have to disembark along the shoreline outside of the city walls. Thankfully, the gates had been left open so that refugees could flee the carnage, ensuring that the army could march into the city without being kept out. But this also allowed outlaw bands and opportunistic sellsword armies and bravos to invade the city; their factions claiming Myr's districts as their own.

What had once been a brilliant city of trade and learning had become a cesspool of brutality and bloodshed. The midday sun gleaming off of the armor and weapons of the mercenaries gave away their positions to the dragon riders. When Aegon uttered "dracarys", Sunfyre opened his great maw and a torrent of golden fire shot out. Soon the mercenaries, now cloaked in a pulsing garment of fire, scattered about, their screams of pain reverberating throughout the streets. Looking over to his right, Edmund saw the Red Queen doing the exact same thing near what appeared to be a temple.

The dragons continued on their path of destruction. While Meleys took care of the archers on the battlements of Myr's walls, Sunfyre worked on dwindling the numbers of the mercenary numbers. Unfortunately, Myr's famous crossbowmen were in the streets. When Sunfyre the Golden swooped down to breath more fire down upon their comrades, the crossbowmen took aim and fired their bolts. Two struck Sunfyre's left flank, three on his side, and one in the neck; Sunfyre hissed with pain, but it was nothing that he could not handle.

But a lucky shot struck Sunfyre at the joint where his right shoulder and wing met was especially bad. Although he was a large dragon, an arrow or crossbow bolt aimed at the right place could easily debilitate the dragon. Sunfyre grunted with discomfort, undoubtedly the bolt struck close to a nerve because otherwise Sunfyre would have normally been able to shrug off an injury like this.

"Seven Hells!" Aegon cursed. He then turned to his squire. "We are going to have to land so that I can pull that bolt out of Sunfyre's wing. You are going to have to protect us Edmund. Ready to prove yourself worthy of knighthood?"

Edmund swallowed nervously, but his words came out untroubled.

"Yes my lord. I am ready for this."

Spotting the seemingly deserted city square, Aegon landed Sunfyre on the cobblestones. Both riders disembarked, with the prince immediately heading towards his dragon's wounded right wing, and Edmund beginning an anxious patrol around the dragon with his sword and shield out. Strangely, the square was quiet. No shouting, no screaming, no dragons growling, nor the dramatic whoosh of dragonfyre being breathed down upon the streets could be heard here. In the absence of sound was a plethora of disturbing things that filled Edmund's sight.

Corpses in various degrees of decay and ruin were scattered about, mostly human of course but there were a few horses and even a poor dog with an arrow between its ribs that added a little dark "diversity" to the casualties. Vultures who had been taking advantage of the eerie calm to feast upon the carrion flew away as soon as Sunfyre landed. The air was perfumed with the scents of death and smoke. Edmund took in slow steady breaths as he looked for signs of the enemy approaching. He did not have long to wait.

Even though there was a dragon present, sellswords brandishing their weapons and shouting battle cries poured into the once deathly silent square. Maybe the men thought that they could swamp the three; their great numbers being able to overwhelm a dragon perhaps? Edmund put his shield up and prepared himself for his first fight. Seeing the incoming assault, Aegon turned his attention away from Sunfyre and he unsheathed his sword. Sunfyre the Golden hissed loudly and bore his teeth, ready for battle.

Undeterred by the dragon's display of aggression, the sellswords continued their suicide run. Sunfyre looked over his left shoulder and breathed out a geyser of golden fire. The first wave of warriors was instantly engulfed in the golden flames, and soon the thrashing silhouettes of burning men screaming in agony was seen. While their comrades burned, more soldiers made their way around the fire, only to be incinerated as well by another blast from Sunfyre. But some of the men were faster, and they were able to maneuver around Sunfyre's line of fire.

Two men emerged from behind the golden conflagration and they made their way towards Edmund. Their oiled black hair shimmered under the fire light, and the brightly colored clothes the men were wearing identified them as bravos. Bravos were warriors from Braavos who were known for confronting anyone with a sword and challenging them to dual in front of the Sealord's Palace by the Moon Pool. Besides lurking about the streets of Braavos, bravos were also known to demand duals in Myr as well. Of minor note, bravos were also known to travel in pairs.

And now Edmund had come face to face with a pair of these bravos. They wielded stilettos, small swords that were used for thrusting, and the blades were pointed directly at the squire. Although small, stilettos gave their wielders the advantage of speed, and in the right hands, they can be quite lethal when aimed at the right place on a person's body. Edmund held up his shield in a defensive position and pointed his short-sword at the bravos. Although clothed in plate armor, Edmund was positive that the head bravo could see that he was inexperienced.

An older looking bravo was dressed in orange and red clothes, and had a long scar on his left cheek. He grinned arrogantly at Edmund before charging at him. Edmund took a deep breath, his muscles tightened, and his senses became sharper as his first serious opponent rushed towards him. The squire was able to block the attack with his shield, but Edmund had to be very dexterous as the bravo thrusted his blade at every opening he could find. The sound of metal striking metal in a chaotic rhythm added to the destruction that was spread out around the group.

During the melee, the bravo fooled Edmund by appearing to initially be going for another lunge towards his right, but instead, as his blade was heading towards the shield, the man moved his sword hand around and stabbed Edmund's left arm. The tip of the stiletto went through an opening above the gauntlet and through the chain-mail just below Edmund's left elbow. Edmund grit his teeth with pain, but in that split second, he saw an advantage. Resisting the pain, Edmund pulled his shield arm back, the bravo was still holding onto the hilt of his sword, and he rammed his shield into the man as hard as he could. The force of the blow pushed the man back and knocked him off his feet; he had let go of his stiletto and the blade slipped out of Edmund's arm since only the tip had been buried into his skin.

Seeing that his opponent was down, Edmund went on the offensive and he closed in on the fallen bravo. With his short-sword, Edmund slashed the man's face as he was getting up. As the bravo screamed and cupped his bleeding his bleeding face, Edmund delivered the coup'd grace by stabbing the man in the heart.

"Papa!" The other man shouted in horror.

Edmund looked up from his first kill. The second and much younger bravo resembled the now dead first one: oiled black hair and similar facial features. But instead of the fiery orange and red colors, the young man wore blue and green clothes. He looked inexperienced, and he must not have joined his father in the skirmish with Edmund because he felt that his father could handle the royal squire. Edmund watched as the man just stood there, his mouth agape, tears streaming down his sweaty face, and an expression of both sorrow and regret written all over the man's face. Edmund, rattled by his first kill, felt remorse for what he had done.

But then the man became angry, and he drew his sword and rushed towards his father's killer screaming. Edmund dug his heels into the ground and he waited for the blade to connect with his shield. When the vengeful man's blade struck the shield, Edmund pushed him away and slashed his opponent's chest open in a diagonal cut with one swing. The man dropped his sword and fell to his knees, blood cascading down from the gash on his chest. Looking up from his fatal injury, the man locked eyes with Edmund.

There was hatred in those hazel irises, but also resignation and strangely enough, pity. Pity for his killer? Pity for a young man who now had blood on his hands for killing a father and his son? As if guided by an invisible puppeteer, Edmund walked over towards the dying man. With his sword in hand, Edmund brought it up and swung it towards his enemy's neck.

Perhaps he wanted to put him out of his misery? Or, was it simply because Edmund wanted the life and loathing in those eyes to disappear forever?

The man's head landed with a small thud on the cobblestones, his body falling over shortly afterwards. Everything seemed to stand still as Edmund took in the carnage he had just caused. Within the span of five bloody minutes, he had killed his first two enemies. He could feel blood seeping down his left forearm beneath his chain-mail, his sword was covered with it, the shield was nicked and cut, and Edmund's heart was beating so fast. Strangely enough, despite the blood and gore, Edmund did not feel nauseous.

He felt some remorse for what he had done, especially since he had killed a father and son duo, but he also felt pride. Edmund was proud that he had stood his ground and had fought bravely without backing down. Hearing swords clashing, Edmund looked over and saw Prince Aegon trying to fend off a warrior with a great-sword; Sunfyre was preoccupied with an unfortunate burned soul he currently had in his jaws. Back to his senses, Edmund rushed to his liege's side with his sword and shield ready. Soon he was going to add a third kill under his belt.

He ran underneath Sunfyre and Edmund saw that Aegon's enemy was not wearing gauntlets, his hands and wrists were unprotected. Edmund rushed over and he brought his sword down on the man's wrists as his sword was pressed against the prince's blade. Razor sharp steel cut through the skin, bone, and tendons as if they were butter, and the sellsword's great-sword fell to the ground, the now amputated hands still attached to the hilt. The man backed away in shock whilst staring at the bloody stumps where just seconds ago had been capped with his hands. Edmund ran towards the man and kicked him in the stomach, knocking him down to the ground where the squire then finished him by stabbing the mercenary in the throat.

"Gods," Edmund thought as he pulled the tip of his sword out from the handless mercenary's throat, "I am becoming quite the killer aren't I?"

Feeling a set of eyes on him, Edmund turned around and saw that Prince Aegon was looking at him. The prince's breastplate was splattered with blood, and his skin was sanguine from heat and glistened with sweat. He looked impressed, boosting Edmund's confidence considerably.

"Are you alright my lord?" Edmund asked, any anxious trembling having died with the three warriors that the squire had killed.

"I am thanks to both you and Sunfyre." Aegon said as he relaxed his stance. Sunfyre grunted, as if saying 'thank-you' to his rider.

"You are most welcome my lord." Edmund said with a broad grin. "Now what do we do?"

Aegon smirked and he sheathed his great-sword.

"Well first, let me get this bolt out of Sunfyre's wing and we can—"

Sunfyre began to snarl, and it soon became known as to why he was being aggressive. The two men listened, and above the roar of dragonfyre, they could hear the din of war; shouting and the sound of blades clashing could be heard. The army had entered the city. Aegon quickly tore out the bolt from Sunfyre's wing, causing the great beast to hiss with pain.

"There you go boy." Aegon said as he gently patted his dragon. "You can fly now without too much pain."

Aegon then turned to Edmund, "Come on, let's go. We need to return to the battlefield."

Edmund nodded in agreement and he joined his prince upon Sunfyre's back. From the air above as they soared, the squire watched as Queen Rhaenyra's army clashed with the sellswords and bravos. Although their numbers were greater, the ragtag warriors were no match for the soldiers and knights of the crown, and they fell flies to the Targaryen swords. Sunfyre's golden flames helped greatly in reducing the enemies numbers; the sound of clashing steel echoing amongst the roar of dragonfyre and the screams the unfortunate souls who had been set aflame.

As the battle waned, and most of the mercenaries dead, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen landed Meleys on the steps of Myr's main sept. She entered the sanctuary and walked passed the frightened masses who had sought refuge in the ornate marble walls. With her cape flowing behind her, and the candlelight flashing off of her steel and copper armor, the Queen Who Never Was was a sight to see, and the Myrmen could not help but stare at Rhaenys in awe. The princess approached the septon and told him to ring the bells. It was time to bring peace to Myr.

Soon the sound of bells being rung drowned out the noise of battle, and for the first time since the beginning of the Triarchy Civil War, a great calm descended over Myr. When the last of the sellswords had either been chased out or killed, the remaining Myrmen emerged from hiding, and heralded the queen's army as their saviors. The same thing happened to Lys and Tyrosh as well. The Bloodwyrm and the Velaryon Brothers' dragons laid waste to the chaos that had engulfed the two island cities, and they established order by rallying the last remaining magistrates to call for peace. When those two cities surrendered, the Triarchy Civil War was over. It was a glorious victory for Queen Rhaenyra as well as her allies.

After the surrender, the surviving magistrates were gathered onto Bloodstone, the largest island in the Stepstone archipelago. Besides those officials, magistrates from Lys, Pentos, and Tyrosh were also there as well. They had brought a large table that had ink pots and several large pieces of parchment laid out upon the smooth surface. The Velaryon Brothers, Aegon the Elder and Edmund, and Rhaenys were there with their dragons and bedecked in armor. The Westerosi half of the delegation arrived shortly afterwards via ship.

Surrounded by small guard of Velaryon vessels, the main ship contained Rhaenyra's small council. The queen and her husband led the flotilla in the air above on their dragons. Rhaenyra and Daemon made quite an impression when they landed, with Syrax and Caraxes causing a great cloud of dust to rise up from the ground that made the delegates cough and cover their faces. Undeterred by the dust, the king and queen made their way towards the table. Rhaenyra was dressed in a maroon and sable dress; the jewels in her crown glittering in the sun. Daemon wore his crown and armor; the latter having been cleaned of blood and soot from the battle in Tyrosh.

When everyone was assembled, the treaty was signed. Besides officially ending the conflict, the true goal of the treaty was to dissolve the Triarchy; ending the expensive seafaring tolls that merchants had to pay up until then. When the last signature was signed, the magistrates of the fallen cities bowed to Queen Rhaenyra, and shook hands with the other delegates. Despite finally getting peace, Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh now had to face many long years of reconstruction. Making their defeat sting even more, the cities were placed under the temporary occupation of one of their rivals until they recovered: Lys was occupied Pentos, Myr by Braavos, and Tyrosh by Lorath.

While the former Triarchy began the process of healing, Westeros celebrated their queen's victory. Merchants sang Rhaenyra's praises for finally putting an end to the exorbitant tolls, and even the Lord of Casterly Rock and the Voice of Oldtown expressed their thanks since now the traders in their major port cities, Lannisport and Oldtown, could make their living without issue. While the Blacks celebrated with feasts and tourneys, the hostage Greens within the Red Keep had another celebration in mind. Just as promised, Edmund received his knighthood. In the presence of his proud father, and the prince's family, Edmund was knighted by Aegon the Elder.

He was now Ser Edmund Naeryon.

Since was now a knight, Edmund needed a coat of arms. After much thinking, and some suggestions by the prince and his sister-wife, Edmund came up with his heraldry. It was quartered into four pieces: in the bottom left was a servant holding a gilded cup on a purple field to represent Edmund's father Wesley, in the top right was a gaoler holding a ring of keys on a black field to represent Edmund's grandfather, in the top left was a pair of severed hands on a red field to symbolize the mercenary Edmund had maimed, and finally, on the bottom right were two stiletto blades on a fiery orange field for the two bravos Edmund had killed. Edmund had tears in his eyes when he laid eyes on his shield for the first time.

"Magnificent…" he whispered as he gazed upon it.

"You have arrived my son." Wesley said proudly, his hand on his son's shoulder.

"You will stay with us, right Ser Edmund?" Prince Jaehaerys asked from his mother's side.

"Of course he is staying darling." Princess Helaena said. "What gave you that idea?" She gave Edmund a hopeful look. Ser Naeryon smiled at the princess.

"That is correct your grace, I am staying."

Jaehaerys and his siblings smiled when they heard that. All three of them rushed over towards the knight and they embraced him. Edmund handed off his shield to his father so that he could return the children's embrace. They were like his second family, and Edmund could not imagine living a life without them. He was not only a big brother figure to the children, he was treated like a son by the prince and princess.

Edmund was also their protector, and he wanted to stay to ensure that the queen and her family would never invoke harm upon his charges. He was their sword and shield. History would later tell of the depths of this guardian's devotion to the Greens, and how far he would go for them to succeed…

* * *

 **And so ends Edmund's introductory chapter. What do you think of him? Eager to see what he will become later on when the Dance does happen? Stay tuned for more later on...**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading, and _please review! :)_**


	19. STORY NEWS

Hello everyone! I thank you all for reading my story and reviewing it. Don't be alarmed, I am not going to say that I am discontinueing _Reign of the Dragon Queen_. In fact, I will be updating it. After the first volume of _Fire and Blood_ was released late of last year (it completely details House Targaryen's history from the Doom until the reign of King Aegon III Targaryen), I have discovered that a lot of what I have written so far does not match up with the new characters and events detailed in the first book.

I have decided to rewrite the story. I am thinking of updating the chapters I have without resorting to having to create a whole new story here. A little discouraging at first, _Fire and Blood_ has actually given me a lot of new ideas to work with that are actually better than the ones I did have! This process will take some time, but I promise you that the wait will be worth it! If you have any questions, you can private message me.

I will post which chapters had been updated.

Sincerely,

The History Queen


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